Al Bhed Psycho
by TheCiz
Summary: Whether it's the morning after, or the morning before, staying up late never felt like such a safe option. Too little sleep, however, never did anyone any good. Especially when they're stretched past their limit already. Better summary inside.
1. Inaugural Ambiguity

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Extended Summary:

It was the news report that shocked Spira; Lady Rikku and daughter Roxy, shot down by husband and father Gippal. He later attempted and failed in suicide and fell into a coma. The couple were outwardly happy and rarely argued. Their friends just couldn't understand why it happened.  
2 months later, Gippal awakes from his coma to learn of his wife and child's death and learns that he is the prime suspect in the murder investigation. He's shocked but doesn't remember a thing about the night in question and he can't even begin to guess why he would do such a thing.  
Things go further down hill when the investigation intensifies and the witch hunt against him begins. However, through all of this madness, Gippal finds as note under his pillow in the hospital, stained by blood and tears. Although largely illegible, it looks like a ransom note, but the question as to why goes unanswered when Gippal is kept in custody. Why would someone write a ransom note to him when he's lost everything? Only two people believe in his innocence and they are determined to find out the truth.

Disclaimer: I only own what I have. Today, it is a packet of "Orange Creamy Drops"… I love the Germans…

**I. Inaugural Ambiguity**

"Gippal, E muja ed! Ed'c cu... bnaddo! Hee hee, zicd fyed 'dem E cruf drec du Yuna yht Lulu, drao'mm pa cu zaymuic!" Rikku gushed as she admired the new bracelet her husband had bought her. It was a small gold chain with rubies set between some of the links. She smiled; _It must have cost a fortune. _(1)

"E rubat oui't mega ed." Gippal replied with a grin. "Oh, yht Roxy ryc y cinbneca vun oui, tuh'd oui ruhao?" (2) The little girl giggled and nodded, handing Gippal a small box and card. The tag on the box read 'Du Sysy', 'To Mama'. He passed the presents to Rikku, who squealed in delight and gave her daughter a hug.

"Du dra pacd Sysy eh dra funmt," said Rikku as she began to read the card aloud. "ryja y knayd pendrtyo. Muja Roxy." She grinned, while obvious that Gippal had helped her write the card, it was still completely cute. It even had a picture of her with dots for eyes, masses of blond hair and a stick man body. "Aw, E muja dra lynt, pypo! Yht fryd tet oui kad sa yc famm?" (3)

She opened the box, coloured all the colours of the crayon rainbow, and inside was a little green teddy bear with a red bow around its neck. She 'aw'ed.

"E tuh'd ghuf frelr bnacahd ec pacd. E drehg drao'na pudr axiymmo knayd!" She said, looking from husband to daughter and stretching out her left arm for Gippal to put on her bracelet. _25 already, _she thought, awed, _It seems only yesterday that we were getting married, when we were going on our first date. I still feel 17 at heart. (4)_

"Can I get you anything else, Sir, or would you like your bill?" asked their waiter for the evening. Gippal being the important political figure that he was, every time they went out to dinner the staff would panic and give them anything. She had still never got over the fun of being able to order pizza at the poshest restaurants in Spira and the look on the waiters' faces as they explained that it wasn't on their menu. It was funnier still when Gippal pretended to be angry about it and then they would make one especially for her.

"Yeah, I think I'll take the bill now." Gippal replied, yawning. "Somebody needs to be getting to bed." He looked pointedly in Roxy's direction, but the little girl didn't pick up on a thing because she couldn't speak much Spiran.

Rikku nodded, "Best to end the night on a high." Gippal paid for their meal and Rikku shook her daughter's hand. "Rao pypo, desa du ku rusa! Tet oui mega ouin saym?" The little girl nodded enthusiastically, almost shaking the pink hair clips from her blonde hair. Rikku giggled. (5)

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Rikku sighed as she opened the door to her home, she suddenly felt really tired. She walked into the living room, a barely awake Roxy following her like a duckling, and collapsed onto the sofa, creasing her pink dress something terrible. Letting her hair down from its ponytail, Rikku picked Roxy up and put her on her lap. _How nice it would be to just fall asleep now…_

With eyes closed, she heard Gippal enter the room, yawning.

"E's kuhhy mulg dra pylg tuun... fuh'd pa y sehida." He said with another yawn.

"Gyo." She said, not opening her eyes. She heard Gippal leave the room once more and she held Roxy closer to her chest. (6) _I've never really appreciated how comfy this couch is until now… and to think I was gonna ask Gippal to get a new suite…_

_Beep… … Beep… … BEEP!_

On the third beep, Rikku opened her eyes. It was the Comsphere. She groaned, put Roxy on the seat beside her and got up, _I'm gonna kill whoever's calling… don't they think I'd be sleeping? _

"Hello?" she mumbled, trying to stifle a yawn. It was Tidus.

"Hey Ri', how you doing?" Tidus said, cheerful as always. He spotted the expression on her face. "Oh sorry, wasn't interrupting anything was I?"

"Yes, my sleep. What you calling for at this hour? I wanna go to bed."

"'At this hour'? Ri', it's only half ten. The night is young!" He caught her expression a second time. "Okay, okay, I'll get to the point. Yuna wants to know if our present came yet. She's been so worried about it not getting there on time… Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks." She muttered, yawning again. "And yeah, I got it alright… I take it the, ahem, second part was your idea of a joke?"

Tidus grinned, failing to look innocent, "I have no idea what you're suggesting by that. You never know when handcuffs'll be useful!"

Rikku was about to reply when she heard the phone ring. On the other side of the Comsphere the cry of a baby also cut through the silence.

"I'll be right back." Was the two friends' simultaneous replies.

Rikku dashed out across the hall to pick up the hall, catching her reflection in the mirror above it. _Tidus must've thought I got hit by a bomb. I look like a chocobo in drag. _

"Hello, hi, rammu, re? This is Rikku, who's speaking?" She said quickly as the answered the phone. There was silence for a few seconds before a recorded message started.

_Hello Sir/Madam. This is Man-dye from Soffet Services Spira! Are your soffets in working order? Are your soffets blocked? Would you like a cheap and easy solution to your blocked soffet problem? Well then, we at Soffet Services Spira can offer a brilliant discount-…_

Rikku growled as she slammed the phone down. _Soffets? What in Bikanel are soffets? Yevon, next I'll be snowed under with adverts for chocobo cred… _

She was about to go back to the living room when she noticed a letter next to the phone. She recognized it as the letter she had received this morning asking her to confirm that Roxy was going to attend a school in 3 months time. The school was in Luca and the technological advances her own husband had made meant that you could now get to Luca from Djose in just half an hour. She suddenly had it in her mind that she should call the school in the morning, so she grabbed the note pad beside the phone and began to note it down.

She had nearly finished when she heard a floorboard creek from behind her. Thinking it was Roxy, Rikku looked up into the mirror. There was no one there. _Must be hearing things… I wonder what Gippal's up to. It's not exactly unusual for him to get 'inspiration' in the middle of the night and then huddle up in his workshop all night._

She shook her head and went back to the note. A few moments later she heard the floorboards creek again. Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, Rikku slowly looked up into the mirror again. When she saw the familiar face, she sighed.

"Jeez, don't be so quiet next time; you were giving me the chills… When did you get in anyway?" she said as she went back to the note.

"A little while ago, but there are more important things on our agenda." Rikku stiffened and looked up as she felt something cold on the side of her neck. It was a gun. Her eyes widened.

"H-hey… what is this?" she said, raising her voice slightly.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Sitting on the floor of his bedroom with his youngest son in his arms, Tidus sat patiently as he waited for Rikku to return from her phone call. Rocking the 1 year-old, he saw Roxy, to who he was godfather, spot him on the sphere screen and come over, smiling.

"Rammu, Ihlma Tidus! Rammu, Pypo Drake!" She said cheerily, although she looked quite tired.

"Rammu Roxy!" he replied with a smile, waving Drake's hand. "Ruf yna oui duhekrd?"

"Denat." She replied with a yawn.

"Famm, ed ec bycd ouin patdesa."

"Dryd'c fryd Tytto cyet duu", the little girl giggled. (7)

"_Jeez, don't be so quiet next time; you were giving me the chills… When did you get in anyway?"_

"Fru'c dryd?" Tidus asked Roxy. "Ec cusauha cdyoehk yd ouin ruica duhekrd?" The little girl shook her head and looked confused. (8)

"_A little while ago, but there are more important things on our agenda"_

…

"_H-hey… what is this?"_

"What in Spira…?" Tidus thought aloud. Roxy remained looking confused as she couldn't understand what the Spiran she was overhearing meant. There was a sudden scream and then a gun shot. She definitely understood that and she sat in silence. Tidus' breath caught in his throat and it took him a few seconds to find his voice again. "Rikku? RIKKU?"

On the other side of the screen he saw the door open. Roxy whimpered.

"Roxy, kad yfyo! Ku kad ouin tytto!" he shouted, but it must have fallen on deaf ears because a second later he heard a second shot and the screen went black. There was still sound, though, because he heard Roxy scream. There was a strange… dragging sound and then athird shot. (9)

Tidus sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, Drake began to wail again._ Rikku and Roxy… they might be… _Putting his young son down, Tidus tore out of the room and out into the middle of Besaid, where he knew everyone would be. They didn't have a phone at their house, at the time they had thought the Comsphere was all they needed, but Lulu and Wakka definitely had one. He needed an ambulance and quickly.

When out in the town square he literally ran into Yuna and Lulu. Yuna was holding the hands of their other two children; Lauren and Matt.

"Tidus!" Yuna giggled. "Watch where you're going! You could've… Hey, what's the matter? You look pale."

"There's no time for that. Lulu, I need to borrow your phone."

Lulu nodded, "May I ask why?"

"Ambulance." Tidus muttered as he headed for Lulu's house. The confused Yuna, Lulu and children followed him.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was midnight when Brenden Macaro, DCI of the Luca Police Department, arrived on the scene of his latest murder case. Dreaded Al Bhed investigators were already crawling all over the place and, although he had nothing against the Al Bhed in general, working with any departments other than his own was always a major hassle. There was always competition to see who could solve the case first rather than cooperation for the greater good, something he was slightly ashamed to say was typical.

He deliberately smoothed down the creases on his trademark brown leather jacket, knowing the fact that he was allowed to turn up in "civvies" would aggravate some of his lesser liked counterparts, and walked up the drive of the house in question. It was quite large compared to the others around it, some big shot obviously owned it. Standing on the doorstep, Macaro recognized Inspector Haskins, a grey and balding officer about 10 years his senior who never went far for "undisclosed reasons". _A bit of a waste_, Macaro thought, as he always did, _he's a good officer and I can always count on him for a few favours from uniform now and again. I'll never understand why he never went for CID._

"Okay, Haskins, what've we got here?" he asked irritably. He was still regretting his decision to volunteer a nightshift. What had been intended as a night to catch up on paperwork had turned into a crime spree nightmare with three robberies, an assault and a case of breaking and entering since 8 o'clock.

"Evening, Gov. Alright, case was reported in by Sir Tidus and Lady Yuna. Two fatalities, one critical. S'Lady Rikku and her daughter that got murdered, shot in the head, both of them. Gippal, he's critical, got shot in the chest and shoulder. Nasty piece of work is all this, but clean so far. No evidence as yet. No signs of forced entry or a struggle. Forensics are having a look around now."

"Brilliant. Lady Rikku, you say? And her wee daughter? That's a shame, I quite liked her…" He looked around Djose. It had certainly flourished since he had last been, a few years after the start of the Calm. It had spawned into a small village of sorts, usually to be seen on TV with Gippal Okinoko or another Machine Faction spokesman announcing their latest creation and lots of Al Bhed technicians buzzing around in the background. Tonight it was deadly quiet, spare the mummers of the officers on the scene. Quiet, peaceful and slightly out of the way; not a place one would expect to start a murder investigation.

Macaro entered the house and inside found his 'ever-reliable' friend TDC Carter, just eager, he could tell, to give him the 'Grand Tour', standing in the brightly painted hallway. A young hot-shot uniform that transferred to CID near enough overnight, Carter wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but while he might not be the most academically bright, his estate background meant that he knew how the fringes of society worked. He was always more for rushing in than standing back to assess a situation and overenthusiastic, Macaro had always thought, but in that enthusiasm was dedication and that was why LIT had accepted him to be a trainee, whether his colleagues were happy about it or not.

"Alright, Ben?", the young officer began. "Terrible case we got here, ain't it? Want me to give you the, uh, 'Grand Tour'?" Macaro sighed, he worried about that boy's enthusiasm sometimes.

"Go on then."

"Okay, Victim Number 1, Lady Rikku, aged 25. Found here, in the hallway, one clean shot to the head, instant death. We think whoever killed her must've been a professional and that she got struck down first. We think she'd just come off the phone. On to Victim Number Two," Carter lead him into the living room, where the body of a little girl, hunched behind a chair was visible.

Macaro felt a pang; the poor little thing, looked exactly like her mother with a matching pink dress. He had always wondered before he joined the Force what kind of person could kill little children, let alone anyone. When he been in the job a few years he had soon found himself face to face with such people, and it still made him sick to the stomach.

"Roxy Okinoko, aged four years old. One shot to the head, also. We think she was the second to be struck down. And finally," Carter motioned for Macaro to follow him out of the room, even his enthusiasm for the job was subdued by the sight.

Carter walked into the kitchen, and to the back door, where a spill of blood and some knocked over cutlery were the only indications that anything had happened.

"This is were Victim Number Three was, Gippal Okinoko, 26. One shot to the chest and one to the shoulder. He was sent to Luca General an hour ago and we got word he's in a critical condition. We definitely know he was the last because the people behind this house saw him going into the house just before the shots were fired. As you may have heard, we haven't got any evidence yet. No cartridges, no murder weapon, no suspicious activity reported by neighbours, but it's early days yet, ain't it?"

Macaro frowned at the young man, "Quite."

**Three days later**

DCI Macaro was in his office back in Luca, going over this latest case. No evidence, no known motives, no suspects, the public demanding answers, and quickly; it was turning out to be a case from Baaj. Not to mention all the unwanted attention he got from the media about being head of such a high profile case. Sometimes he just wished he was allowed to arrest them all for harassment. _Ha!_, he thought,_ that'll be the day that Shoopuf fly! _

"Sir?" Macaro looked up to see Carter enter the room_ without knocking_, as he noted mentally. "I think you might be interested in this."

"Yes, what is it?" Macaro replied, frowning.

"Result of the post-mortem's back. The two girls definitely died of shot wounds, but it's not that that's interesting. When they extracted the bullets from both bodies, they ran tests on them. Turns out the bullets were both from the same MK32 pulse rifle."

"We have a possible murder weapon? Well, it's a start at least."

"Better than that," said Carter, "we know the owner too. The only registered user of a 998YS MK32 pulse rifle in Spira is none other than Gippal Okinoko."

Macaro choked, "You're kidding."

"No, Sir, and you'll remember that when we searched the house we found Mr. Okinoko's gun."

"Under the kitchen table." Macaro finished for him. "With his prints inevitably all over them."

"Yes, Sir. I think we have our first suspect. We may have even found the culprit. I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier!"

"Don't go too far on now, Carter." Macaro reprimanded. "There's one thing we're lacking. A motive. Think about who we're talking about; man of his stature, happily married to a beautiful wife and child, his career going from strength to strength, adored by the public. What possible motive could he have for killing them and then trying to kill himself?"

"That, I suppose Sir, is what we have to spend all our energies trying to find out."

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(1) "Gippal, I love it! It's so... pretty! Hee hee, just wait 'til I show this to Yuna and Lulu, they'll be so jealous!"

(2) "I hoped you'd like it. Oh, and Roxy has a surprise for you, don't you honey?"

(3) "To the best Mama in the world, have a great birthday. Love Roxy. Aw, I love the card, baby! And what did you get me as well?"

(4) "I don't know which present is best. I think they're both equally great!"

(5) "Hey baby, time to go home! Did you like your meal?"

(6) Gippal: I'm gonna lock the back door... won't be a minute.

Rikku: Kay.

(7) Roxy: Hello, Uncle Tidus! Hello, Baby Drake!

Tidus: Hello Roxy! How are you tonight?"

Roxy: Tired.

Tidus: Well, it is past your bedtime.

Roxy: That's what Daddy said too.

(8) "Who's that? Is someone staying at your house tonight?"

(9) "Roxy, get away! Go get your daddy!"


	2. Welcome The Benevolent Team

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today I have a mug of coffee, the fuel of my imagination. Let us hope it serves its purpose.

**Author's note: Isn't it funny how they have 'sudoku' in Spira? Just as a note, I hate that game. Probably because I don't have a head for figures. Oh well. This chapter is mostly to establish the police department side of the story. I have a chance to mention briefly some of the members of CID that are important and give you all an insight into how the team works and will work in later chapters. At least, this is what I hope to achieve. Enjoy!**

**II. Welcome The Benevolent Team**

It was a warm summer evening at the Moonflow, but the sky was still so light that you could have sworn it was the middle of the day. On a ridge a distance off from the main docking area, a young man sat. He was nervous, but trying to hide the fact by whistling tunelessly and drumming his fingers on the grass. As he sat there, whistling, he didn't notice a young bikini clad woman sneak up behind him. She edged quietly towards him, before leaping on his back and covering his eyes with her hands. The young man jumped about a foot off the ground.

"Guess who!" the young woman said in a sing-song voice.

"Rikku, get off me!" said the man, shaking Rikku off his back and turning to face her. "You could've broken it. I think you've been eating too many pies since I last saw you."

She pouted, "Meanie." She averted her gaze to the lake behind him. "Well, Gip, I have to hand it to ya, you did pick a romantic spot. I suppose it's just a shame you decided to put on your jerk strap today."

"Ha, ha, ha, you do sarcasm so well."

There was an awkward silence for a moment as Gippal turned back to the lake. Rikku shuffled up beside him, putting her head on his shoulder, and sighed.

"Well, I think this has gone better than the first date so far, yeah?" he said, trying very hard not to smirk.

"Yeah," Rikku giggled. "you haven't run over any cats yet."

"That was not my fault!" Gippal said, laughing. "I swear to you, Baralai set me up."

"Sure, and he didn't think you'd suspect him because he just happened to be a few hundred miles away at the time?"

"Of course!" He replied defensively.

Gippal heard rustling behind him. Turning, he saw a Bunyip immerge from a set of bushes. _Brilliant,_ Gippal thought, _chances are I fight that thing and end up looking like a complete idiot in front of Rikku even though it's a fiend a five year-old could beat up. Where's Lady Luck when you need her?_

Gippal, deciding to try his luck at looking cool, drew his gun and stood up, aiming his gun at the fiend lazily. Unfortunately, just as he was so lazily and "cool-guy" aiming his gun, the Bunyip charged into his knees, making him stagger. More unfortunately, his gun swung back as he staggered and smacked Rikku in the mouth. Mortified, Gippal quickly killed the fiend and turned back to Rikku, hastily putting the gun away.

"Oh cred, sorry!" Rikku rubbed her jaw, half frowning, half wincing.

"Ok, never bring that thing anywhere near me ever again. I don't trust you with it."

"Don't worry about it!" Gippal said, putting an arm around her. "This gun's_ never_ gonna hurt you._ Ever_!"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Lying in a bed in downtown Luca, Gippal Okinoko's hand twitched and he groaned as he started to regain consciousness. His head ached and his mouth was painfully dry. _I don't wanna get up, _was the first thought to cross his mind, swallowing to get some moisture back in his throat. _Wait, my alarm hasn't gone off. Means I woke up early. Ah, great, _being the second. Groaning luxuriously, he tried to turn onto his left side, but felt a pain in his right arm and so rested on his back once more. _What's that?_, he thought and so he raised his left arm shakily, it didn't seem to want to move, to pat the other. Finding nothing, he let the arm drop and it landed across his chest. He had apparently tired himself out with this simple action.

Thinking simply to roll onto his right side, he did so and felt something dig into his arm, almost like a tube. Too tired to investigate, he breathed out heavily. He could hear nothing for a few seconds, but then came a steady 'beep… beep… beep…'. He groaned. _What now? If this is Ri's idea of a joke… _Suddenly thinking of his wife, Gippal raised his left arm once more, searching for her on her usual side of the bed, to which he was met with some sort of table. Grunting, he stretched it out the opposite way, to which he was met with thin air. He let the arm rest.

_Strange, _he thought, _I don't remember being relegated to the spare room last night. _It was then Gippal became aware of voices near to him. Hushed voices sounding as if they were just outside the door. _We have guests, _he thought blearily, _and I'm still in bed. Rikku will not be pleased._

Sighing forlornly, Gippal opened his eye, which was met with light. Strong, evil, blinding light. He quickly shut it again, groaning. _I bet she opened those curtains on purpose. _Opening his eye slowly this time, Gippal could just make out a grey blob in front of him. Thinking this was odd, he opened his eye a bit more and allowed it to focus. The 'grey blob' he had seen earlier turned out to be a table with some sort of machina a top it. This machina was the culprit of the irritating beeping sound he kept hearing. _Stupid, vilging, son-of-a, _he thought mumbled, _like to smash it to…_

The door opened, distracting Gippal from the death threats he was making against the 'cursed machina'. In came a woman in a white dress, holding a tray of some sort.

"Wha-?" Was all Gippal could manage, staring at this mysterious person. Indeed, the mysterious white clad woman looked surprised to see him, but this surprise soon turned to an icy glare as she set down the tray she was holding and quickly headed out the door, not bothering to close it. He blinked. _Huh?_

A few moments later, the woman in white was back, icy glare still in place, accompanied by a man in a white coat. _Ok, this is bizarre. I feel like my own home's been invaded by Yevonite clerics. They always had a thing for white._ The man stood over him, eyeing him critically.

"Um… ?" Gippal mumbled, not quite sure whether to tell this man to 'get the vilg out of his house' or politely ask him 'what in the Farplane did he think he was doing?'.

"Ah, Mr Okinoko, you're awake at last, I see. Well," the man smiled at him affably. "at least partly."

"Mmm… ?" he muttered, seeming to have lost the power of speech.

"You're in hospital." The man, who he presumed was a doctor, explained.

"Oh." He said, blinking.

"Been in a coma, in fact."

"Tayn." He finished off lamely. _Hospital? What am I doing here? Nothing's happened, s'far as I can remember. In fact, last thing I remember was being in the car… _A terrible thought dawned on him. _The car…_ "Ri…" he mumbled. "fra… na?"

The white woman, a nurse he assumed, behind the doctor 'hmpf'ed. She was Al Bhed, he noticed as she glared at him again with the tell tale swirled eyes.

"Fra… na… ec… Ri… ?" he mumbled, but the doctor shook his head at him.

"Try to get some sleep, Mr Okinoko." The doctor said, picking up a clipboard and writing something on it. "That's what's best for you."

"… ku." He murmured, exhaling heavily with the effort. _Yes, sleep does sound like a nice idea, _he thought, the hospital room before him blurring, _such a nice idea…_

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was 8.30 am by the time DCI Macaro had fought his way through the crowd of bloodsuckers camped outside LPD HQ. He had come in at 6.30 to get an early start on reviewing the case, although admittedly there was nothing more to be analyzed to death, and there had been relatively few of them. However, when he had nipped out an hour later to get a coffee and some toast from the café opposite, he was swamped with the idiots, asking all the usual questions. "Have any moves been made to arrest the murderer?", "Why has it taken this long to progress with the investigation?", "Is it true that you believe Leblanc is the true murderer?". _Bloody imprudent scum the lot of 'em._

The public seemed to like ignoring the fact that they hadn't put Gippal Okinoko on trial for the very simple reason that he wasn't even conscious. Oh yes, they could just waltz into the hospital and interview him by staring at him until he confessed in his sleep. That was the problem with this investigation. Until Gippal woke up, there would be no way of advancing it. Of course, it had been two months now, so they had been trying to keep themselves busy by following up other leads, however ridiculous.

They had to be seen to be doing something, even if it was getting some so called 'psychology expert' in for a consultation into whether their suspect had multiple personalities and one of them 'flipped out one night and decided to kill', as Carter had so shrewdly put it. Shoopuf shit in his opinion, but of course, once it had inevitably leaked to the papers, it was front page news. 'AL BHED PSYCHO' one headline had said, 'Could the respected leader and family man have had an evil side waiting to be unleashed?' He really did wonder how much brain power went into some of those headlines.

At around 10.45, Macaro was half way through the daily crossword when the phone rang. Sighing, he answered it.

"Macaro."

"Sir?" came the squeaky voice of Cathy, the office girl downstairs. "I have a message for you from a… Dr. Abuja from Luca General."

Macaro perked up. Dr. Abuja was the man overseeing the care of Gippal and he had been instructed to inform him of any change in his condition. This was the phone call Macaro had been waiting for for two months. Hopefully, Mr. Okinoko had started to wake.

"Yes, what is it?"

"He says that Mr. Okinoko's woken up but you can't see him until he's strong enough to speak to you so he'll phone again when the time comes. The call came in at about 8 this morning."

"Eight?" Macaro exploded. "Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" Macaro swore he could almost _hear_ her blushing from the other side of the phone.

"P-PC Davies said you'd 'popped out for a few hours', Sir." She said, her voice squeaking higher than Macaro had thought humanly possible. He groaned.

"Well never believe a word _PC Davies_ ever says again and slap him for me next time you see him… and that's an order, Cathy!"

"Y-yes, Sir!"

He put the phone down and sighed. Finally, a breakthrough. _Time for a team meeting I think. See whose brain is active enough to come down with me to that hospital. I doubt sitting on their arses for two months playing 'sudoku' has helped them along much either._

"Oy, you lot! Meeting… NOW!" Macaro barked out the door of his office.

"But Sir!" DC Habe said loudly, lowering a newspaper. "I haven't finished today's 'sudoku'. I'll only be a minute, I've got two more squares to-…"

"And another thing!" Macaro barked, ignoring Habe. "Bloody sudoku is banned from this office from now on and if I catch any of you doing one you'll be on 'Media Relations Duty'!"

And on that note, the detectives shuffled into their DCI's office silently, Habe huffing as he threw his paper and pen down, ready for their briefing.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

After being briefed on the new situation, the detectives muttered to each other, going over all the things they hadn't made sense of yet, such as why there were no bullets cases left at the crime scene, the fact that the Okinoko's neighbours were _still_ having a dispute over whether Gippal had re-entered the house before or after the shots were fired and, of course, the much deliberated motive.

There had been many theories on this subject, ranging from the plausible to the downright absurd. Most of the more witless theories were a result of bored detectives not exactly enjoying a recent dip in crime. Alien mind control, a planned chocobo invasion, and such. The most obvious to Macaro was that Mr. Okinoko was set up, but of course he knew better than to voice that opinion, for it was he who had announced that he thought Gippal was the prime suspect in the first place.

Just as the detectives were leaving noisily, DC Putsch had been sent to the hospital to check on Gippal, Macaro's phone rang once more. Not about to let anyone get the idea into their heads that the entire CID were incompetent fools, which he knew they weren't but, like everyone, they had their moments, Macaro shushed them.

"Macaro."

"S-sir, it's Cathy again. You have a call from a Mr… um, Hutuc. Should I put him through?"

"Yes, yes, dear. Put him through." _Hutuc? Where have I heard that name before? Ah yes, Gippal's number two down at the Machine Faction._

"Hello?" came a surly voice from the other end.

"Ah, Mr. Hutuc. What reason do you grace me with your digital presence?" Macaro said in his best PR voice.

"Yes, I am Hutuc from the Machine Faction. Detective Chief Inspector Macaro? I could not help but read in a newspaper yesterday that you have not yet found a reason for the lack of bullet cases at the scene of the crime."

"Ah, yes… no, we haven't that one figured out yet. Why do you ask?"

"I am not trying to incriminate Gippal, he is a friend, but I thought it best to inform you that we at the Machine Faction have been developing guns that require no cases or cartridges for the past few months."

"Oh, have you really? Are you suggesting that Mr. Okinoko used some of these… special guns to 'do the deed'?"

"No." Hutuc replied quickly and bluntly. "I was merely trying to inform you that we discovered that some of these prototypes were missing recently. It is unclear to us for how long these prototypes were missing because we have only returned our attentions to this project recently."

"Only recently? Why was that then?" Trying hard to dispel the irrational thoughts of blue murder from his mind.

"About a year ago, Gippal decided that the project could be put back so we could focus on a… secret project of ours."

"A 'secret project'? Surely you could tell a responsible police officer such as me? In a murder investigation secrets are not looked upon kindly."

"I assure you, it is no matter for the police department. To quote our leader, 'It would only kill someone if they were stupid enough to attack it with an electrified spanner, douse it in gasoline, attach grenades to it and turn the power on'."

"I see." There was a pause. "So, are you implying that someone stole one of these guns and may have been able to frame your leader?"

"The special prototype stolen was not a gun, but in fact a case of bullets. They could have been used in a gun such as Gippal's, but we doubt it. The bullets have the signature of any MK rifle of the series, so someone could have incriminated him with ease if they did steal these bullets."

"Right, so, the bullets we extracted from the bodies may in fact be special bullets that you developed that leave no trace and can fit in a series of rifles?"

"Yes." Replied Hutuc. "But, since they were merely prototypes, they would leave a small trace on the person who fired the gun. I can send one of our technicians to your station to examine the bullets and see if they are one of the missing. If so, you could test Gippal for any residue on his hands, for example."

"Yes, Mr. Hutuc that would help us greatly. If you could ask my secretary for the address of our forensics labs that would be much appreciated."

"I am convinced Gippal is innocent, as are others in our Faction. We intend to prove this innocence. Thank you for your cooperation, Inspector. I will do so. Goodbye."

Macaro directed Hutuc back to Cathy. _Well, there is a development._ Macaro popped his head out of his office door again.

"Everyone, back in. We have more to discuss." Macaro spotted that it was nearly lunchtime on the clock on DI Jackson's desk. "Oh, and Habe? Get lunch in, would you?"

Obvious that Habe was about to protest, DI Leda, dubbed 'resident smart ass' by colleagues, coughed over obviously and it was clear for all to hear that she had added an 'MRD' to it. Habe scowled but didn't argue.

"Aren't the young ones always sweet?" Leda muttered to DS Meva, who grinned, as the remaining detectives traipsed back into Macaro's office.

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"Alright everyone, quiet. We have yet another new development. I just got off the phone with a Mr. Hutuc from the Machine Faction. He informs me that the Machine Faction, under Gippal's instruction of course, were working on special types of guns and bullets that left no trace about a year ago. Apparently Gippal put the project on hold for more important ones. Now, Hutuc says that they recently re-started this project and discovered that a case of their special bullets had gone missing. These bullets could have been used in a rifle such as Gippal's, but could also be used in similar guns in the series. He says, since they were only prototypes, they would have left residue on anyone who fired them."

"What kind of residue?" asked Jackson, standing in the corner of the office.

"I don't know, some sort of residue." Macaro replied.

"Hey, didn't forensics mention some sort of unknown substance on both victims, near the wounds?" DS Keota asked, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Could be the same stuff." The other detectives murmured in agreement.

"We'd have to get tests done on Okinoko when the Al Bhed tech gets here, but I'd say that was a good observation." Said Macaro.

"Yeah, he ran the thing, he could've stolen the bullets easily." Said Carter, sitting next to Keota.

"Well, we can't know for sure until he wakes up and we get to ask him some questions." Macaro looked over his team, quickly selecting the brightest. "Leda, you're coming with me when the time comes."

She smiled, "Yes Sir."

"Meva, Jackson, you can work with the Al Bhed tech when he gets here. In the meantime, try to swot up on all that technical jargon, okay?"

Meva and Jackson eyed each other awkwardly. It was no secret to anyone they felt uncomfortable around each other, though neither had yet had the reason why forced out of them. Jackson frowned and Meva looked offended by this.

"Yevon, just do it!" muttered Keota. Meva glared at her. "Don't be so childish, we have a murder to solve."

"Sir." Jackson said, still frowning, and he and Meva left the room.

"Carter, sort out the paper work. Keota, I want a word." Macaro looked pointedly at Carter, who hadn't yet moved. He took the hint and quickly left the office.

"What is it, Sir?" Keota asked nervously.

"Don't worry, you're not in any trouble, but… you are half Al Bhed, right?"

"Yeah… ?" she said, confused.

"Well, let's just say I have a special job for you, then."


	3. Anonymity's Magnum Opus

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz.

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have. Today, I have… um… (Various shuffles) … a hair brush? Jesus…

**Author's Note: Ciz says that the last chapter was supposed to be funny… Why? Well, seeing as Ciz just killed a couple of people she decided to 'lighten things up a little'. And we all saw how well THAT turned out, didn't we children? So, with a promise that she will not try to enforce her humour on anyone ever again, Ciz is pleased to announce a return to 'seriousness' with this short and sweet chapter. Well, at least as 'serious' as Ciz can ever get… which, she says, isn't very much. And with the parting wisdom of Ciz being "Vere ist die Hoff?" in her own terrible German accent, she bids thee farewell. **

**III. Anonymity's Magnum Opus**

_I wonder if the unsent ever change their clothes…_

16 hours after initially waking up, Gippal Okinoko had regained consciousness. Groaning and again wetting his throat, he dully wondered why he had thought his last thought. He eventually decided that it was one of those things that didn't need thinking about, so he sighed and tried to open his eye. It wasn't as bright as he remembered it to be and, when the eye got used to the light, he noted that it was night.

Sighing again, Gippal wondered if he'd had any visitors while he was asleep. He looked to the left and right. _No flowers, no grapes, no nothing. Bastards. Well, all right, maybe they did visit. Heh, yeah, I can imagine Rikku waiting by my side while I slept… Wait, if she'd done that she would've been here when I woke up. Maybe it was really early in the morning and she was at home, and she's been here all day to see if I'd wake up again. Yeah, and then I wake up in the middle of the night. Wow, my subconscious is so conceited. _

Taking deep breaths, Gippal looked around his room. He was on his own, of course, and it was deathly quiet apart from the steady beep of the annoying machina beside him. _Not much doing, in other words._ Seeing his door open, Gippal quickly shut his eye. The last thing he wanted was to have some amateur nurse poke and prod him in the middle of the night. _On the other hand…_

Although not quite sure what the person was doing, he felt them fiddling with something at the end of his bed. He felt a tray, a heavy one, drop on his foot and it took a lot of his will power to remain perfectly stoic.

"Whoops." The person, a woman, muttered sarcastically.

As he heard the woman leave the room after picking up the tray, Gippal felt tired again. He hissed as his foot throbbed. _Why do I get the feeling that the nurses in this hospital are against me? _

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_I mean, after a few hundred years on the go your clothes might stink a little. _

10 hours later and 26 hours after initially waking up, Gippal Okinoko regained consciousness yet again and, as with his previous awakening, he had no idea why that sentence had floated into his head. Deciding that he didn't really care this time, he sighed and opened his eye again. Half a second later and it was shut tight. It was definitely lighter now. Opening it slowly this time, Gippal eventually saw the same room, devoid still of any decoration.

Feeling decidedly unloved, Gippal scanned the room. He wasn't as tired as he had been the last few times he had woken up, but it wasn't to say he was any the less bored. That had always been Gippal's problem, his mother had said. He got bored too easily. He was quite troublesome when he was bored and so had been forced to take up an infinite amount of hobbies when he was a child. Never really having an imagination for anything un-machina related, Gippal found his room's distinct lack of things to do disappointing. There wasn't even anyone to talk to.

Gippal noticed a clock in the far left corner of the room. Straining to see past a pot plant, he noted it was 10.12 am. He groaned. _I suppose the only thing left to do is to wait 'til one of the nurses shows up. Despite the fact that the two I've already met seem to hate me, I might get lucky and find out what's going on here. I'll ask them when visiting hours are too._

The minutes passed and no one came. Gippal, glad in the knowledge that he hadn't lost the power of speech completely, whistled tunelessly and drummed his fingers on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Too tired to move but too restless to sleep, Gippal had never known that being hospitalized was this boring. He looked up at the clock again. 11.05. _Urg… _

Rolling onto his left side, Gippal heard a noise. The word 'crinkle' travelled lazily through his brain, trying to find something to connect with. He blinked internally. '_Crinkle'? _He blinked externally. _Paper… And the sound came from under my pillow too. Strange…_

Guiding a hand underneath the pillow, his finger tips touched paper. Drawing it out for closer inspection Gippal, leaning on his elbows, identified it as an envelope. An envelope with his name on it, among other things. These other things were mainly different coloured stains. _Dark red, black, greyish-green…_

With a mixture of curiosity and bemusement, he slid a finger under the seal at the back and opened it. Inside there was a single piece of cream paper that, since Gippal was so near the window the light streaming in hit the page, held an odd watermark. It was a crest. The words were too small to read, but the emblem was of an odd creature that resembled a chocobo with roses twisted around it.

While Gippal was considering the mark for a minute, the peaceful quiet of the room and moment where shattered by the door opening. Jumping a few centimetres from the bed, he heard the paper and envelope slip to the floor. Looking up, he locked onto the eyes of the White Woman from yesterday. They stared at each other for a few moments, surprised, before the White Woman made to close the door.

"H-h-hey!" He just managed to say. He swallowed, because his throat was quite dry and it was affecting his speech.

"What?" She snapped.

"U-um…" _Aw cred, what was I gonna ask her? _"I, uh, wanted to… know…"

"Yes?" The White Woman said, sighing and tapping her feet on the tiled floor.

"Ah… When's lunch?" _Oh, to the goddesses…_

"Noon." She replied bluntly. "It's sausages and potatoes, eat your heart out." She went to close the door again.

"W-wait!"

"What? Are you going to complain just because I didn't play the part of the gracious nurse? Fine, 'how are you feeling today?'"

_Honestly? _"Like I've been stepped on by a pregnant shoopuf."

"That's… nice to know."

"Um…" _Just ask her. Ask her about Rikku and Roxy. Just ask her what happened, don't chicken out… _"When's visiting hours?"

The White Woman snorted, "10.30 to 3, but what makes you think you'll get any visitors?"

And before Gippal could reply this time she was out the door quickly. _Pedlr. _(1)

Shaking his head, Gippal wondered after that letter. Looking down the side of the bed, he spotted it. Reaching over and retrieving it, he noted how this small gesture of exertion had drained most of the energy he thought he had gained. He was seriously out of condition. Opening the letter again and ignoring the watermark, Gippal began to read the letter, or rather pick up a word here or there because most of it was illegible.

"_Gippal,_

_W… … _(These parts of the letter were impossible to read) R_… … y… …- ll kill them if you do not… … … … … Moonflow… … … … throats… … … … pay for… … … did… … … No police involv-… … … … die also… … … Machine… … … Al Bhed… … Spira… … … … can never… get away with… … … punished… … … … … have… 72… … … killed. Never will… … … … people like… … … We cannot wait … … …_

_L.P.S"_

Gippal swallowed and re-read the note. From what he could tell, somebody was going to die if he didn't do something and no police or somebody was going to die. It was a ransom note, in other words. _But who? What am I supposed to do? Damn, I could read it properly if only this… stuff hadn't blurred it._

He looked at the letter more closely. The black stains seemed to be the ink the letter was written in which had run when it had come into contact with some sort of water. As for the red stains, he had the horrible idea that he knew exactly what they were. Blood, although he really didn't want to think about it. Lastly, there was the greyish-green stain and this was the one that puzzled him the most. The green was too dark to be grass, but the grey was too light to be any sort of concrete, and anyway, how would concrete get onto paper? _Okay, this is getting more than a little creepy._

After re-reading the letter a few more times, Gippal eventually tucked it under his pillow when lunch arrived. Although physically tired, his brain was buzzing, going over everything again and again. _I'm in hospital. I've been in a coma. I've got a ransom note under my pillow. I'm not getting any visitors. Nobody will tell me anything. Something is terribly wrong here. _Thoughts similar to these plagued him all through lunch and for a time afterward.

_Why can't I figure out what's wrong here?_

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Grey. Grey floating in all directions. In front of him, behind him, there was nothing but grey. Eventually, a stone path formed in front of him. He followed the stone path, followed it for an eternity, or so it seemed. After a while, the stone path stopped as it led him straight to the edge of a cliff and the sea below. Turning around, he could see nothing but rocks covered in mist. He headed towards the rocks, leaning on them when he got there because he was tired from walking the long path.

As he leaned against one of the rocks, catching his breath, he felt helpless and alone. As he sat on the ground, he looked up at the summit of the rocks. Water was pouring down from there and onto his head. It was a trickle at first, but it soon grew in size and power. He desperately tried to get away, but the water was too strong, and so it carried him off the side of the cliff in its current. He was falling almost in slow motion; it was so far until he hit the ground. The ground, greyish-green in colour, came ever closer, almost in a spiral. It was dizzying, he felt sick.

When he hit the ground, he did not die but fell through a ceiling. It was the ceiling of some sort of cell. Water gushed into the room from the hole in the ceiling and out of a low-down window on the other side. Sitting next to the window was a young, blonde woman, who was facing away from him.

Picking himself off the wet floor, he called out to her, but she did not answer. He called out again, louder, but still she did not respond. He walked over to her, touching her shoulder and asking if there was anything wrong. The young woman turned to look at him. Her expression was somewhat blank and her swirling green eyes looked dead. He was silenced, looking at her. The woman shook her head slowly. The moment seemed to repeat itself, she shook her head again. The simple action kept repeating itself and he felt more helpless than he had done before.

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(1) Bitch


	4. Totally Sureptitious

Al Bhed Psycho by The Ciz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have. Today, I had… chicken. It was good.

**Author's Note: All right, all right, Ciz says she apologizes for trying to make the last chapter slightly humorous. Her excuse is she can't help it… and her apologies for the huge break between chapters. Ciz finds herself committed to an institution that drains all her creative and individual thought five days a week. That's right, school's a bitch. However, late last night, she was literally woken up by inspiration, and has actually got off her lazy ass and finished the chapter! Sure, it's an OC-centric filler chapter that everyone hates, but hey, it's progress. Yes, 'progress'.**

**IV. Totally Surreptitious **

Late summer in Djose. As the heat from the two previous months of unrelenting sun finally started to fade from the dusty coast road, the sea breezes picked up, spreading the strong, cool smell of salt to the surrounding area. The first leaves in the trees had begun to turn orange and the hum of fiends settling down could be heard as a monotonous backdrop.

It was around this time of the year that the Al Bhed of Djose held their race's traditional harvest festival, the Khatvahna. All activity in the Machine Faction would cease for three days as its workers indulged themselves in all the food, alcohol and merriment they could take. It was a noisy and looked forward to occasion that attracted Al Bhed from all over Spira, and was a time for many to catch up and reflect with old friends and family. So famous was this time that Mevyn Nooj had once let members of the Youth League join in at Gippal's invitation, and the party had spread all along the Mushroom Rock Road.

However, the Khatvahna celebration at the eighth year of the Calm was a subdued and almost sombre event. The music, food and art of the people were all there, but the heart and enthusiasm was not. With their leader discredited and gone, it was all Hutuc could do to even get the technicians to stop working. Rather than celebrating, the Machine Faction workers filled their relatives in on the situation, the truths, the mysteries and their discoveries. Around the great feast tables, people conferred among themselves, each family with a different theory and tale to tell their neighbours.

The only certainty that immerged from this was the Al Bhed people's unwavering belief in Gippal's innocence, and not even the world media had ever dared speculate this. It was something the Al Bhed had always believed, they were almost expected to, although, if asked, they could never tell anyone outside why. They were a people in complete and unified denial, and it was against anyone's better judgement to challenge this.

Attending this event was DS Keota of the Luca Police Department, and not only, this year, for her mother's sake. DCI Macaro had given her orders to get inside information from the Machine Faction anyway she could, and Keota could see no better chance than at the Khatvahna, where the slippery tongues of the language conjugated every year.

It was the second day of the festival, and Keota was sitting at a table with her younger brother Alex, both keenly watching their mother gossiping with an older man and his son. This was probably another spotty, snivelling merchant's son who her mother would adore and force her daughter to speak to as possible future husband material. When it came to her love life, her mother appeared to prefer to be as ignorant as possible.

Sipping on a glass of white wine, Keota considered her baby brother for a minute. The last she'd seen him, three years ago, he was living as a tramp in a run down area of Bevelle, for whatever reason, painting murals of happy, peaceful people, Lady Yuna and butterflies. She looked at his pin striped, Guado style suit. He had obviously given that up and had, of course, been welcomed back, open armed, by her parents. She sighed. At least he had gotten rid of the ridiculous beard he had worn at their last meeting. She could have readily compared it to a brown fungus, slowly trying to eat her brother's chin. Somehow she could credit its disappearance to her mother's beady glare.

"Alex," she said slowly, setting her glass down on the table. "What would you say if I told you that I was quitting the Force?"

Alex choked on his glass of orange juice and coughed over enthusiastically for a few seconds. He eventually stopped and turned around to look at his mother again, a definite smirk on his lips. "Oh, she will like that one, won't she, sis? She won't stop laughing."

Keota set her chin on her hands and glared at him, "I'm being serious."

"Oh, yeah?" Alex replied, turning to stare at his older sister. "Since when?"

"Since a while ago." She sighed again and looked away from her mother, who was laughing loudly at yet another one of the rich merchant's son's jokes. "I was thinking of getting a job here, actually."

"And what would you do?" Alex chided. "You've never been any good with machina."

Keota huffed, "Well, you'll excuse me if I remember being a lot better at it than you! Need I remind who fixed all of your 'Max the Giant Chocobo' clocks every time you broke them? And what about your - ?"

"Alright, I get it!" Alex hissed, looking at the people in the other table furtively. All she ever needed to do was mention 'Max the Giant Chocobo' and her brother was turned to a pile of embarrassed putty in her hand. "I'm just saying places are getting tight. Are you sure they'd let you in with your qualifications? Or, should I say, lack of qualifications?"

"Well it's better than none at all!" She snapped back. "Not everyone has the privilege of living the high life of a freeloader such as yourself."

"Freeloader?" Alex exploded, nearly knocking his glass off the table and attracting quite a bit of attention to himself in the process. "I'll have you know that - !"

"Alex, darling, what in Bikanel are you doing? It's not nice to call your sister a freeloader; she's trying the best she can."

Alex sat down again and struggled to contort his face into something that resembled understanding. There was only one thing her brother feared more than the world discovering his love of 'Max the Giant Chocobo', and that was the sharp, fussy and downright disturbingly cheerful voice of his mother.

"Sorry, mother." He said, smiling sweetly. "But, do you know, I have some frightfully good news! Our Lynnie has decided to leave that horrible police job of hers to work with the machines here. Isn't that good?"

Keota mouthed the words, 'I hate you', as her mother squealed with delight.

"Oh, darling, is it true? Have you finally decided to give up the life of drudgery and degradation that is public service to be with your own people in a job you were born to do?" She grinned at her daughter with great expectation.

Keota blinked, "Not when you say like that, I'm not…"

Her mother ignored her. "Do you know, I was just talking to Mr. Hutuc there now. He's Deputy Leader of the Faction. I know him very well! Oh, darling, you must speak to him!" She got off her seat at the table and began to flag Hutuc down, calling to him shrilly and scaring the poor man. He was promptly dragged over and offered to sit down.

"Wine?", offered Alex, holding a half-empty bottle of white wine in his hand. Hutuc nodded briefly and looked anxious as Keota's mother told him cheerfully of her newfound ambition to join the Machine Faction and Alex poured him a glass.

"Can I have some wine, too?" Alex asked hopefully with a small smile.

"Darling, you're too young to drink, put it down!" His mother replied quickly.

Alex frowned at her, "I'm 25."

"So, Mr. Hutuc," She said, ignoring her son. "Do you think you would have any positions for such a skilled girl as my daughter?"

"U-um… I suppose we're always short on safety testers for our new machines." Hutuc stammered, eying Mrs. Keota warily. "I could talk to one of the supervisors down there for you, if you wanted me to."

"Did you hear that, darling? Mr. Hutuc has got you a job in Safety! Isn't that wonderful?" Her mother grinned broadly. Hutuc made to intervene, but Alex just shook his head.

"Yeah," Keota took a gulp from her glass. "Brilliant."

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In the end, after some brief paperwork, Keota was not given a job in safety, but as an assistant to a man named Namut, who designed expensive looking hover cars that went at speeds far exceeding the average limit. Keota thought Namut was a bit of a smarmy jackass, with as much class as the cars he designed. She really couldn't believe that the things she sent out to the board where made into cars, let alone that they were very popular among the rich. She had to hand it to Gippal, he knew people well, and how to get money out of them even better.

The other technicians were quite wary of her, and she felt nervous just being in their presence. _Well, it will make you more convincing… _she tried to reassure herself, but that good advice was as good as lost if ever she tried to put it into practice. After about a week, she had only one point of bonding with her co-workers; they shared her contempt and exasperation over Namut.

"I understand why Gippal hired him but… was it absolutely necessary to put him in charge?" a fellow secretary, Lucinda, thought out loud one day. When she worked with Lucinda, she usually worked in silence, but that was a rhetorical question that just begged comment.

"That's like wondering why The Great Queen Cactuar ever trusted Big Bad Mr Mushussu when he cackled evilly every time one of the heroes said something."

Lucinda paused and gave Keota a sort of sideways glance, before replying, with what she thought was almost a smile, "I always thought it was 'cause of his moustache. You know, when he twizzled it every time something 'unexplainable' went wrong?"

Keota snorted, "Oh yeah, but it's always like that in those fairytales. It's either really obvious who the villain is, or everyone goes through the whole story thinking that one guy is evil, but it's really been the heroes best friend all along. Jeez, I used to love going to see those plays…"

She could tell for sure that Lucinda was now smiling, "Ever see 'The Little Lost Zu' when you were a kid? Like, with the puppets at that old lady's house back Home?"

Keota heard herself squeal, "Oh, I always went on my birthday! I had to beg my parents, but they always gave in on the day."

The work hours went by much quicker once she and Lucinda had started chatting any time they were on together. When she wasn't working, Keota lived in Workers' Accommodation Seven, a mere 10 minutes from her work and ate dinner in a large common room. The whole experience reminded her of a sort of grown up band camp. Although she hadn't found out much, or anything she didn't already know, about Gippal, she felt confident that when she called DCI Macaro at the end of the week, she could at least claim to have made progress. These things took time; surely he would appreciate that.

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About a week later, a few hours before her first report back, Keota was on her lunch break when Tannu, a man she passed everyday but had never spoken to, came up to her table. It was only her and Lucinda at the table, since everyone else were sitting with people they 'trusted', so it was a bit unusual. Nevertheless, the girls heard him out.

"Uh, hey, Lucinda? Couldn't do me a big favour, could ya?" Tannu looked over his shoulder, looking a little rushed, but didn't wait for an answer. "I promised I'd give ZT this box when he got back, but I'm a little busy right now… It's Sayta's birthday today, you know? Gotta do something… 'Special', you know?"

Both girls peered at the box in Tannu's hand. "It's not something naughty, is it?" Lucinda teased.

Tannu groaned, "Please?"

"Oh, alright, alright. But you'd better do something real special for her, or I swear…"

Tannu nodded and ran out of the canteen and Lucinda got out of her seat with a sigh. "So much for a break!"

"I could go with?" Keota offered. "Besides, who's this ZT?"

"If you want, but you've been warned. ZT is just a cocky little nut job from Forensic Science. One of those."

"Like Namut, I take it?"

The two headed down to Forensics and it took about two seconds to find ZT. Although he was short, he was very loud. When turned and saw Lucinda he looked her up and down, causing her to scowl. However, when he next spotted Keota, he smiled. Then the smile turned into a positive grin, a grin she didn't like in the least.


	5. Al Bhed Tech Boy

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today I have KAT-TUN. That's right; I bought their souls for manipulation on the black market. Gotta problem with that!

**Author's Note: "What's this? More? And so soon?" I hear you say. Well, Ciz says yes. She was deliberating for a very long time (about 15 minutes) about whether to write this chapter, or a Gippal one. Obviously, Ciz and her small readership would prefer a Gippal chapter, because hey, that's why we're all still reading this, huh? Unfortunately, she dug herself into a bit of a hole in the last chapter. She couldn't help but put that last bit in, even though it was only supposed to come in… Chapter 13. Urg, way to go, Ciz! Anyway, she decided to do this chapter, because at least then she can write more Gippal later, or that's what she's telling herself anyway. And why are there not more Canon characters in this? Well, Ciz hasn't thought up an excuse yet. In any case, the chapter name was inspired by an episode of Farscape, "PK Tech Girl". So, you say, will this Al Bhed tech come to the same fate as Julina did? Who knows! This AN is already far too long for Ciz to explain, so she will bid you all farewell until next time! **

**V. Al Bhed Tech Boy **

DI Jackson strode out of DCI Macaro's office sullenly. He was immediately followed by an irritable DS Meva who, in Jackson's opinion, was acting upon the phrase 'breathing down your neck' to the very best of her abilities. He sighed, wondering if the intolerable woman would ever leave him alone. Not likely, considering they had to work together, which gave her plenty of chances to annoy him. Because she was like that, Meva. Just when you thought you knew her, she would change like the seasons. Defend you one minute, and then crucify you the next. He tried telling himself when he was younger he didn't have time for that sort of behaviour anymore, but it was almost like fate was spiting both of them. Thrusting them together, despite their protests. He sighed again.

"What?" Meva suddenly snapped from behind him. "What have I done now, as if I didn't know?"

Jackson groaned as quietly as he could and decided that replying that she was just assuming all of Spira revolved around her wouldn't be a wise choice. What he needed was a strong mug of tea. He tried to limit himself to one an hour, 12 a working day, but he had the sneaking suspicion that he would need more in the coming weeks. The best tea the Luca Police Department had to offer was a heavily watered down imitation of Kilika Gold, coming from a vending machina in the canteen on the ground floor.

He took the decision to head there, or rather to hide out there and hope Meva didn't come and interrupt his tea break with nagging. After casually checking out a memo about parking, it said that just because you're in the police it didn't give you the right to park on double yellow lines, but this was generally ignored by most, Jackson headed swiftly for the door. There was no comment from Keota as he opened the door, but he almost knew it was too good to be true. As he headed down the corridor towards the stairs, he heard a shrill voice.

"And just where do you think you're going to?" Came an angry Meva, running after him. "Trying to leave me to do all the work again, are we? Well, I'll have you know that… Hey, are you listening to me? Jerk!"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

DS Meva headed out of DCI Macaro's office with a lot on her mind. It was just her luck, to be stuck with that cocky idiot Jackson as a partner. She glared at man walking, deliberately slowly, in her opinion, in front of her. Jackson was one of those men who pretended to be a nice, quiet sort of fellow, with just a little bit of mystery. She knew that was how everyone else saw him, but she knew him better. For years he'd seemed that way to her, too, but age, and experience, had caused her to see his other side. The side that was selfish, arrogant and with a high opinion of himself and his opinions. He just used other people, but they never seemed to notice. It was frustrating.

In front, she suddenly caught Jackson looking back at her and sighing. He was looking down at her, as if his 'talents' shouldn't be wasted on working with people like her. He always did that, and it was too much for Meva this time.

"What?" She challenged, although he didn't stop walking. "What have I done now, as if I didn't know?"

For a second she thought he would just ignore her, but then she heard something. It was a definite sound of distaste from Jackson, no matter how he tried to hide it, it was there. Meva was fuming, the cheek of him. _Well, if he's gonna be like that, I'll just ignore the prick as well! I bet he'll try to land all the work on me too!_

All was quiet for a few moments, Jackson was looking at something on his desk, and Meva, determinedly ignoring him, looked at a memo that she had been intending to throw away. It was a request from Maintenance that if officers would actually check to see if the tea machine in the canteen was actually switched on before they tried to "sort it out" themselves, it would be much appreciated and save a lot of unnecessary work. She knew the idiots who did it, and was only vaguely surprised that Jackson hadn't partaken in it.

The man drank so much tea, she was sure it wasn't healthy. She didn't know how he could drink tea anyway. It was disgusting. Coffee, on the other hand, was the drink for more refined people. If she could ever get through one day without being caffeinated, it was a miracle. And, if working with Jackson wasn't enough of a reason for a strong cup, she couldn't think what would be.

As soon as she had ideas to go to the canteen for a coffee, she spotted the door closing. Jackson was making an escape attempt! An escape from work, trying to unload it all on her. _Well, if he thinks he can get away with it, he's got another thing coming!_

Meva headed out into the corridor angrily, and yelled at him, "And just where do you think you're going to?" She began to run after him, to make sure he was listening. "Trying to leave me to do all the work again, are we? Well, I'll have you know that… Hey, are you listening to me? Jerk!"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

About three days later, after an unfortunate incident were both Meva and Jackson had to be restrained and reprimanded, apparently over an argument about tea were they threw each other down a flight of stairs, Meva and Jackson, refusing to look at each other, where waiting in reception. The long-awaited Al Bhed tech boy from Hutuc was expected to arrive any minute, and part of their job was to escort him to the LPD's Forensic Department. From there, they would assist him in his enquires over the bullets and report any findings to DCI Macaro.

There was a small chime from the clock over the receptionist's, Cathy, office. It was 12 o'clock. Then, as if he had been intentionally hanging around outside until this time, a very short Al Bhed man in a very loud outfit, even by Al Bhed standards, of bright green and yellow, swaggered through the door with a large grin on his face. Jackson sighed wearily, while Meva merely stared. The small man walked up to them, and addressed Meva first, extending a hand quickly.

"You must be my escort, right? I'm ZT, your tech boy." He said in an odd accent which sounded like an odd mix between an old woman and Baralai. "So, gorgeous, you know anything about the intricacies of the human body? I sure do."

Meva was still speechless, when Jackson coughed. "That's escort plural, if you don't mind. So, ZT, I'm DI Jackson, this is DS Meva."

Meva raised an acknowledging hand, all the while glaring at Jackson for over-emphasising that she was of lower rank than him. Jackson rolled his eyes at her and a short, but awkward silence followed. ZT, who seemed slightly oblivious to it all, just continued to grin.

"So, you kids gonna show me to your Forensics Department, or what?" He said, looking expectantly between them.

"Sure," Meva said, breaking the silence first, "it's right this way."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The Forensic Department of the LPD was not actually in the three main buildings that housed the normal officers, but in fact a small converted house just down the road. It was next to the "Kioku Café", a small café frequented almost exclusively by the police. Therefore, when the security guard with the keys to the facility was not at his post, it was safe to be sure he was having his lunch there.

After a short trip into the café, in which they all stopped for five minutes to see the first pictures from the, in Meva and Jackson's mutual opinion, disastrous CID camping weekend, all three were inside the building and ZT was hanging up his normal coat and donning a typical white lab coat.

"Ready to have some fun, kids?" ZT asked enthusiastically, but all it earned him was a muttered 'whatever' from Jackson, who couldn't resist.

After a quick word of explanation to Zach, the Head of Forensics, about the intrusion, Meva and Jackson were watching ZT set up while Zach retrieved the bullets from storage. He pulled out charts, some strange silver instruments that looked suspiciously like a cross between a pair of tongs and an electric hammer, and a few bottles of mysterious elements. When ZT spotted Zach returning, his eyes lit up like a small child looking at chocolate.

As ZT began poking around at the bullets, Jackson was sent to get an expendable sample of the mysterious substance with Zach. Meva was left to watch ZT, putting a bullet in a purple substance first, and then poking them with the strange silver instruments, muttering to himself. After releasing the bullet from the instruments' grasp after a few minutes, the bullet began to glow an odd greyish-green colour. ZT smiled.

"Uh, is that a good thing?" Meva asked, never being any good at science.

ZT half-giggled to himself, "That all depends on what you were hoping to find. What that colour means is that those bullets were, in fact, the stolen prototypes. This is good for us, if you must know, because with these it would easy to frame Gippal."

Meva stared at the still glowing bullet for a second. Ever since Macaro had briefed them about the bullet evidence, there was something she didn't get, "Um, but then, if they are the prototypes, why did our forensics team identify them as ones from Gippal's gun and not notice the difference? I mean, if they're for all the guns in the series, how come their findings were so precise?"

ZT paused for a moment of thought, but then came up with, "I'm not sure. I didn't make them. Knowing Gippal, he probably just modelled them on the ones he used most often, so he could try them out first…" He broke off, realising his poor choice of phrasing. "But, I don't know, maybe your team just got it wrong?"

"Oh, do you really think so?" Zach and Jackson had returned with a sample of the unknown substance.

ZT looked a little sheepish. Zach was one of the best in the newly found business of forensic work. Until the Calm, Zach had been a priest at Macalania Temple, under the guidance of Maester Seymour. However, when the Calm came and the Guado went into hiding, Zach had spent his days perfecting his hobby until the days when the Guado were able to return. It went without saying that young scientists like ZT looked up to people like Zach, so he was a little embarrassed to be caught criticising his hero.

"Let's just get on with this, shall we?" Jackson handed ZT a slide and telescope. He nodded and took them to Zach's working bench, where he started focussing in on the slide in silence.

With Zach over looking and Jackson and Meva on the sidelines, still refusing to look in each others directions, ZT went through the various magnifications on the telescope, each time looking more and more confused. Eventually, on a magnification of x65, ZT stopped and looked up at Zach.

"Look at that. The substance looks like it has two different cell structures." Zach looked into the eyepiece accordingly, while ZT continued, "It can't, of course, so something must be overlapping… which means there are probably two substances in there."

Zach looked up from the lens, "You're right about that. From what you saw of the two cell structures, was either of them the residue from those bullets?"

"I'll check now." Said ZT, who rifled through some of the reference sheet he had brought with him. Stopping at one that said, 'Lydyduhel Cdnildina 42', ZT again looked through the lens of the telescope. He looked back to the sheet. "Well, one of them is… the one that looks black blue, like ink. The one on top of that, the crimson one… I have no idea what that is."

"Wait a minute," Jackson cut in, slightly confused, "why are you talking about colour. That stuff's colourless."

Meva smirked, "That's because you can only see the colour under a microscope, right, ZT?"

"Yeah, but… it still bothers me. I wish I had more time here." ZT looked thoughtful. "Zach, is it possible that I can take a sample back with me?"

"As long as I can keep on examining it myself. This is indeed a curious development." At this thought, Zach laughed. "So, once again, I am in competition with Al Bhed scientists for the first result. Go ahead and impress me, ZT."

ZT grinned once more, "My pleasure."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Before escorting ZT to the hover station, where he would get his ride back to the Machine Faction, Meva and Jackson took Zach and ZT to Macaro's office, as they thought they would be better at explaining the science than they would have been otherwise.

ZT had taken charge of presenting the findings to DCI Macaro, going as far as doing some demonstrations, which seemed to interest and entertain the Inspector. When ZT was clearing up and packing away his instruments used for the talk, Macaro took Meva, Jackson and Zach outside to talk in private.

"So… you didn't see any Machine Faction fabrication, then? Nothing suspicious?" Macaro asked in a whisper.

Meva smiled, "Sir, there were three of us, he wouldn't have tried anything. We watched him at all times; he didn't do any out of order."

"That's true," Zach agreed, "he's a very smart boy. He wouldn't have tried to do anything, and I checked his work."

Macaro nodded, "Well, that's alright, then. I just had to make sure, you never know. The Machine Faction are suspect in themselves, we have to be cautious in their involvement."

They continued talking until ZT came out of the office a few minutes later.

"Well, that's me. We better get going, you know? Don't wanna miss the last hover!" He seemed excessively cheerful once more, as if he couldn't wait to get back and start on his own investigation.

Jackson nodded, "Yeah, let's go."

As they were walking out of the building, they heard TDC Carter call after them, "Hey, Al Bhed guy, you dropped this in the office!"

ZT turned and looked very surprised. In his hands, Carter was holding a small camera.

"I figured it was yours because, you, it looks really hi-tech."

ZT quickly smiled as he took the camera from Carter. "Oh, thanks. Yeah, I'll need it. I don't go to Luca that often, so I wanted a picture of the Psyches' changing rooms." He sighed. "Guess I won't have time."

"Oh, that's too bad." Carter said cheerfully. "Well, maybe next time?"

ZT raised an eyebrow, "You think I'll need to come again?"

As they were walking down the street, away from Carter and the station, Meva and Jackson exchanged a rare look. It was a slightly suspicious one.


	6. A Hospitable Inquiry

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have a white fluffy pirate hat. Well, I wish it was white and fluffy, but it IS a pirate hat.

**Author's Note: Another day, another chapter. Well, sort of. Ciz is delighted with her progress, as we have finally arrived at a Gippal chapter once more. Wow, and to think the whole thing was supposed to be about Gippal! Whatever the case, Ciz was slightly dreading this chapter. Why, you ask? Because there is a possibility that angst would be needed. And, as we will soon discover, Ciz and angst do not mix. If anything, it's only emo, or just plain melodrama. Yes, probably melodrama. Oh, dear. And just when things were starting to look up… **

**2nd Author's Note: Oh God, this is a weak chapter. I'm sorry, don't kill me! **

**VI. A Hospitable Inquiry**

It was almost a week after Gippal's discovery of the ransom letter under his pillow, and nothing had happened since. Absolutely nothing. With such an ominous event, Gippal had expected at least something. Another letter, a midnight visit from some psycho or, most unlikely, a visitor of any kind. All he got, however, was the monotony of hospital routine; woken up at 8 am for breakfast, check up by the doctor, lunch at noon, check up from the White Woman, dinner at 6 pm and check up by the doctor. Repeat ad nauseum. His only hope was that he could recover quickly and escape from the b0rdum of it all, because leaving himself to his own thoughts wasn't something that really appealed to Gippal that much right now.

The slow days did have some perks, h0wever; every so often, a strange brown haired man would look in the window of his door, as if trying to catch him off guard. Off guard at what, Gippal wasn't entirely sure, but at least the man's presence provided some possibilities for entertainment.

One of these events, which happened about two days previous, was when Gippal had regained the effective use of his legs, and had decided it was a good idea to hide beneath his door window. When the time had come for the man outside to look in, Gippal heard him gasp when he discovered he was 'missing'. He had quickly moved to the left side of the doorframe, so that when the man had opened the door to rush in, he was hidden. Had he been in better condition, Gippal would have loved to have jumped the man, covered his eyes and shouted in his ear, "I'm gonna eat you!". However, seeing as his body wasn't too keen on physical activity of most sorts, he had had to settle for slamming the door and shouting, "BOO!"

The young man had screamed and done a double take, only to slip and fall flat on his face. Embarrassed, he had quickly left the room, muttering something about 'telling on' Gippal. Gippal, meanwhile, had remained at the side of the door, cackling with laughter, when he had eventually crawled back to his bed, he was more than pleased with himself.

Another incident had occurred that very morning, when Gippal had awoken to find that someone had left some paper on the small table beside his bed. He had grinned to himself, and thought of how he could have great fun in using it to make a model of a new hover engine he had been thinking over. Half an hour later, he had been disturbed by the White Women, with his breakfast in tow, who had demanded to know exactly what he was doing.

"Working." Gippal had replied simply, tearing a piece of paper off the model and folding a corner somewhere else.

"At what?" she had said impatiently, "What is that, anyway?"

He had frowned at her, "An improved version of my current SSCx56, eight litre, multi-cylinder hydrogen hover engine. If I can get the design tested back at the Machine Faction, I could improve the efficiency of the current model by at least 5.7. Isn't it obvious?"

The White Woman had stared at him for a few seconds, "No, now have your breakfast, I'm not standing here all day." And with that she had seized the pile of paper, which is what it had looked like to her, ignored Gippal's cry of outrage and shoved the plate of toast and bacon on his lap in one swift motion. "No work, Doctor's orders."

When she had left, Gippal had sat there, silently fuming away and eating his toast with more aggression than he intended, when he had heard voices outside his door.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

DCI Macaro had gotten a call from Dr. Abuja the previous night, just as he had been leaving for home. Gippal had recovered sufficiently for the police to talk to him, but Dr. Abuja had specifically told Macaro not to interrogate him. Macaro, who hadn't really been intending to, had been a little indignant at that, but nevertheless, first thing the next morning, he was at Luca General Hospital with DI Leda.

Gippal's room was number 23 on the hospital's private ward, on the fourth floor, and DC Putsch had been in charge of guarding it. When Macaro and Leda arrived, they found a moody looking Putsch sitting on a chair outside the room. Putsch perked up slightly when he saw them coming, hoping they had come with news that he could leave.

"Are you here to interview him, then?" Putsch asked, standing up and stretching.

"That's right. You can take the hour off." Leda confirmed.

"Ah, finally!" Putsch exclaimed, before saying in a warning tone, "But watch him, yeah? He likes playing practical jokes on unsuspecting officers."

As Putsch walked onto the elevator, Leda smirked and Macaro rolled his eyes. At that moment, a nurse came out of Gippal's room, holding a strange mound of paper. She looked at the two detectives for a moment, before giving it to Macaro.

"What's this?" Macaro said bewilderedly, examining the paper.

"Something_ he _was doing. Talking about hover engines, obviously off his rocker." The nurse replied, walking away before either detective could object.

Leda looked at the paper, "It does kinda look engine shaped, I suppose. Got a lot of maths on it, too."

Macaro sighed, "Never mind that, let's just get this over with. Dr. Abuja said that Gippal is largely unaware of what happened, so we may have to end up being the bearers of bad news, understand?"

Leda nodded and the two entered. The room was plain and quiet, with a view of sea, and sat on the bed in the middle was Gippal Okinok0, sulking as he ate his breakfast. Gippal looked up at them with surprise, clearly expecting his nurse or doctor, and then spotted the mound of paper, which Macaro had given to Leda.

"That's mine," he said in a slightly raspy voice, "give it here!"

Leda handed over the mound of paper, asking, "Is it really an engine?"

Putting his breakfast to one side, Gippal put the mound on his lap and began reassembling the pieces properly. "It will be when it's finished. Well, it'll be a replica, but same difference." He stopped fiddling with the model to regard Leda and Macaro again. "And you two are?"

Macaro coughed, "Yes, yes. My name is Detective Chief Inspector Macaro, and this is Detective Inspector Leda, from the Luca Police Department. We're here to ask you a few questions."

"Oh…" Gippal continued to stare at them for a few seconds longer. "What about? Does it have something to do with me being in here?"

"Yes," said Leda, moving Gippal's breakfast onto the table so she could sit down beside his bed, "we're in the middle of a murder investigation."

Gippal looked worried, "Somebody got killed? What does it have to do with me, was it someone I knew?"

Macaro felt uneasy. Dr. Abuja hadn't been joking when he said that Gippal didn't remember anything about the night in question. Suspect or not, he was about to tell someone their family had been killed and that they were being held responsible. In the state Gippal was in now, worried but oblivious, Macaro could not have suspected he had done such a thing, but nevertheless…

"It has a lot to do with you, I'm afraid." Macaro said, frowning, "In a sense, you're one of the victims, and the only survivor at that."

Understandably, Gippal was now looking downright alarmed, "Victims? Survivor? What?"

Leda sighed and put a hand on Gippal's shoulder, "I'm really sorry, but…"

Gippal shook his head. He knew exactly what she was about to say, and he didn't want to hear it. He had had a certain amount of dread in the back of his mind since he had woken up that first day in the hospital. Now, he knew precisely what it meant, and it was terrifying.

"Your wife and daughter… they're dead."

"No…" Gippal murmured. The mound of paper fell to the ground as he hid his face in his arms and drew his knees into his chest. She was having him on, just playing a joke, surely. _Surely… _

Macaro could only watch as the man in front of him shook, refusing to believe. The room was deathly silent was several minutes, the only sound coming from Gippal, desperately trying to control his own breathing.

Then he looked up, staring Macaro in the eye with a breed of cold anger, "Tell me." Leda looked away from him but kept her hand in place. "Who was it? Tell me!"

Macaro could only have hoped to be in Leda's position, able to avoid what was inevitably in front of him. The desperation in Gippal's eyes were almost heartbreaking, but he knew prolonging his silence would only make it worse.

He took a deep breath, before replying, "We haven't prosecuted anyone yet, but we do have one main suspect." He could feel Gippal's stare burning into his eyes, but knew he had to say it. "The main suspect in our investigation, as present, is you."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"He didn't really respond after that, because of the shock, I suppose."

DI Leda was back at the station by lunch, and was relaying what had happened to DC Habe and TDC Carter in the canteen.

She looked down into her doughnut with a thoughtful expression, "Poor thing, you had to feel for him. But, you know, seeing his reaction… makes you wonder if he really did do it."

"Ha!" exclaimed Carter, who had remained relatively quiet during her story. "That's just what he wants you to think, isn't it! It's all part of the act!"

Leda glared at him, "You weren't even there! If he was acting, he was damn well good at it! Enough to fool both the DCI and me. You really have it in for him, don't you?"

Carter brushed Leda off, "I just know he did it, alright? I gotta… 'hunch'. Anyway, where you there when they found the bodies? I saw what he did first hand, and I wanna give those girls justice, that's all it is."

Habe just sighed, "I don't know what I believe. Until I get some hard proof, all I can do is keep an open mind, right?"

"Proof!" Carter exclaimed disbelievingly. "We have proof! It might not be watertight yet, but it's just a matter of time! I'll find you your 'proof'!"

With all possible civil discussion gone, the three officers left each other to their lunches and their thoughts.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Hours later, and Gippal found himself in that grey place again. As before, after a while, the long, stone path drew out in front of him. This time, however, he didn't follow it. He remembered where it had led him last time, and he really didn't want to see that woman again. Looking around him for something other than the path, he eventually spotted a small, wooden bench sitting to his left. He sat down on the bench and looked up at the predictably grey sky.

Consumed as he was with the endless sky, Gippal didn't notice a small, blonde girl sit down on the bench beside him. She, too, looked up at the sky.

"Ec drana cusadrehk eh dryd cgo?" she asked quietly, making Gippal jump. He stared at the little girl in shock, unable to find his voice, but all she did was smile back at him.

"E secc oui... yht Sysy, duu."

Gippal reached out and touched his daughter, trying to make sure she was real. "So, you're not together?" He was unaware of why he had spoken in Spiran, or even why he knew she would understand, but it just seemed right.

"Hu, pid E ghuf cra seccac oui, duu."

She shuffled closer to Gippal and hugged him.

"Tuh'd funno. Fa'mm syga ed."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Is there something in that sky?

I miss you… and Mama too.

No, but I know she misses you, too.

Don't worry. We'll make it.


	7. The Innovation of a Spy

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have some tap dancing shoes. Whether or not I stole them from a certain person called Junno is beside the point.

**Author's Note: Oy, so here we are again. What an amazing butterfly. (Major kudos to anyone who can catch the reference!) Ciz can't believe it's chapter 7 already! To be honest, she forgot what it was even supposed to be about, so, unfortunately for you the reader, she's decided to make it up as she goes along in the small hope that it resembles what it should have been in the first place if she had gotten off her ass and wrote it. Some chance… **

**Shameless Gippal interlude with some preface to a certain character dedicated in turn to Jezzi and AngelTaisha. (Damn those dastardly plots! If only I could do a PWP, but then you'd all read it just because you thought it was porn…)**

**VII. The Innovation of a Spy**

The morning after the incident at Forensics, in which she had been propositioned more times by ZT in his two minute presence than she had thought humanly possible and with the revelation that Tannu had been smuggling information on the voting for the Interdepartmental Personality Competition, a popularity contest in reality, to ZT, DS Keota had a headache. Therefore, she didn't appreciate it when Namut had called a meeting over new efficiency methods in their division. Of course, she had no intention of listening to him, but the mere sound of his voice had a grating effect on Keota's nerves.

After the meeting was over, Keota customarily went over to complain about it with Lucinda. Lucinda, who was eating an impromptu breakfast of an Eclipse chocolate bar, was more than willing to offer her opinion.

"Well, that was pointless." She said, breaking a square of chocolate off and thinking on it for a second. "He seemed quite pleased with himself, though. Wonder why."

Keota looked at her, "He's always pleased with himself, and his 'Fayth's Gift' with women."

"No, but he was especially pleased with himself today. I mean, really, he hasn't looked that smug since Gip…" She allowed herself to trail off, shaking her head and popping the square into her mouth.

"Oh." Keota replied simply, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with the subject. "Can't really tell if that's a good or bad omen."

In the silence that followed, both were too consumed in thought to notice Namut sneak up behind them, "What's up, girls, why those sad faces?"

Lucinda looked slightly exasperated, "Well, do I have anything to be particularly happy about today? Did a doughnut hover crash in front of my grandmother's house and leave nothing but bakery goodness behind?"

"No," Namut replied, completely oblivious, as always, to any sarcasm, "but I do have some news about our esteemed leader. Good news, too."

People around them stopped to listen as the two girls gaped at him in anticipation, making Namut smile, "As you know, Hutuc's gone out this morning on, ahem, important business and let's just say the nature of this business has _nothing_ to do with Luca General Hospital. Or, rather, a resident there."

"So Hutuc's gone to visit Gippal? Which means he's awake… which means he's okay?" Keota muttered breathlessly.

"Girls, girls," Namut bellowed with an all too hearty grin, "if I knew, I would tell you. Believe me, I'd be the first to know!" And with that he swaggered off with a wink in his workers' direction.

Most of the department gawped in his wake for a few seconds, before breaking out into a clamour of mutterings.

"Gods…" was all Lucinda could manage.

Needless to say, the day went by with more difficulty when every technician in the Machine Faction was more concerned with the gossip of the day, Gippal, than actual work. Everywhere Keota was sent, no matter which building or to who's office, she was met with the same questions; "Did she know?", "What did she think?" or "Could she believe it had spread around the entire Faction, even to Bikanel, so quickly?", and in that exact order. In all honesty, she was hardly surprised at the third. At the Machine Faction, if you wanted something kept quiet who kept it to yourself and made sure you didn't talk in your sleep.

By three o'clock, Keota was thoroughly sick of it, and the mood was not improved when she was sent on a message to Forensics. Firstly, she did not enjoy being treated like a courier and secondly, the addressee was none other than ZT, who she did not fancy meeting again so soon. Her precious cargo was a set of newly developed photos, probably of a dubious nature, Keota thought.

Calling with a fellow secretary on the appropriate floor, she hoped to any higher being with a sense of mercy that ZT was out, and cursed quietly when they failed her. She walked down the known route to his desk with a sense of dread and announced her presence by throwing the file of photos onto ZT's lap rather than speaking. ZT looked up at her and grinned.

"Not going to stay and marvel at my incredible spying skills?" He asked, seeing that she was not intended on staying.

It worked, as she turned on the spot and snorted, "You? A spy? Please…"

"Yes, please. I stealthed an entire office of those stupid police officers in Luca, and they didn't notice! One of them even handed me my camera without a word when I nearly blew it!" Keota couldn't help but look cold in the face of ZT's victory over her team.

"Oh yeah, where's your evidence?" She enquired, trying not to let her act slip.

ZT extracted a photograph at random and shoved it in front of her face. It was a clear image of one of the DCI's case notes, detailing exactly what the CID had done, were going to do and what evidence they had collected. Nothing had been spared not even, as Keota noted with some relief, DCI Macaro's habit of referring to "the team" rather than individual detectives.

ZT noted her look of surprise almost instantly, "Really quite impressive, huh?"

Keota blinked at him, "And they really didn't suspect a thing?"

DCI Macaro would not be pleased when she informed him.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Although it was the middle of the day, Gippal was thoroughly immersed in the state between sleep and consciousness. He didn't feel much like doing anything, or having another dream about his family, so he was quite happy to remain in this state for most of the day. Most of the time after the moment the police had left his room the previous morning. It had other advantages as well; he was not forced to eat if he was asleep, and not forced to talk to the doctor when he came in to check on him. All Gippal had to deal with was the silence and his own thoughts.

However, at 2 pm that day, Gippal would reflect that he would have preferred to be awake, as he had been visited by a stranger. This was not a police stranger, he could not even be sure if this person was a stranger, but it was definitely a visitor.

A feature of Gippal's current state of inactivity was that he was acutely aware of some things, but oblivious to others. For example, although he never heard his door open, he was suddenly conscious of a person standing over him. Since he had his eye closed, he could not see this person, but he could hear their breaths, slow and steady.

Time passed, and the person said nothing, nor did Gippal make an attempt to wake himself and speak. Apart from this being a very hard thing to do, he had come to the conclusion that maybe it was a different doctor, merely observing him. Yet, this idea was abandoned when he heard a female voice, which was that of the White Women, address this mysterious person.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" Came her sharp voice from what Gippal could only blearily assume was the doorway.

"No, I'm quite fine." Said a soft, male voice from somewhere above his head. "A short visit is all."

"Oh, I see." The White Women's voice had become strangely polite. "Well, Sir, I'm afraid you're out of luck. Mr Okinoko has been sound asleep since yesterday."

"I had hoped…" the man muttered, sighing. "I had heard he was awake and speaking, is that not true?"

He heard the woman hesitate, "He was, but… The police were in yesterday."

The oddly familiar voice was silent for a moment, and Gippal wondered who it could be. He knew this person, he_ knew_ he knew this person, but in his half awake state his mind could not connect the voice to a face or name.

"Do you think he's innocent?" The White Women asked the man tentatively. Again, there was a pause.

"I don't know what to think." The man said solemnly. "The evidence is there and yet I…" The man sighed and paused again. "In any case, I must be away. My entourage will be wondering after me by now."

Both the man and the White Woman left the room and Gippal could smell a lunch he just didn't feel he could stomach sitting on the table beside his bed. However annoyed he was that he had not found out this person's identity, he was glad of a subject other than his family to think about.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was nearly seven o'clock, and Keota was just about to finish her thoroughly draining day when she received one last task; Find Namut a book on aerodynamic wings from pre-Sin racing cars. She stared at the memo on her desk bewildered. The word 'find' ultimately suggested that a book on the topic was not to be found in Namut's personal library, which presented a problem for Keota, who knew nothing of it. She didn't even know where to start, and neither did the other members of her division when asked.

Frustrated, Keota began to walk around the Faction, asking random passers by if they had any knowledge that such a book even existed. After 20 minutes, she met up with Lucinda, who calmly informed her that anything that was 'pre-Sin' was probably in Gippal's office, as it was one of the few bits of Spiran history he was still actively interested in. This did, however, present a problem.

"Are we even allowed in there?" Keota asked cautiously.

Lucinda scoffed, "Just because people are treating it like a holy shrine, doesn't mean we can't go in for a book. Besides, Hutuc's away, he wouldn't even know, and we have an excuse."

"Hmm, suppose."

However convinced Keota had been that they were in no danger for entering the Sacred Shrine of Gippal, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of foreboding when the two of them entered the dark office. When she had turned the light on, she had found the pristinely preserved mess that was Gippal's organization creepy. Even though Hutuc had moved into the office temporarily, there was no sign of it. It was as if time had stopped in the room on the night of the murders.

She could tell Lucinda felt the chill of the place too, "Right, there's a bookshelf. Let's get Namut his precious book and get outta here."

The bookcase was that of oak and was huge, easily twice Keota's height. Both marvelled at how many books there were, and at how many looked untouched. Feeling it was easier to start at opposite ends, Lucinda, who was scared of heights, started searching the bottom, while Keota used a ladder to reach the top.

At the top of the bookcase, it seemed Gippal kept the most unread or unused books, with titles such as, 'A Common History of Al Bhed Business', 'A Complete Dictionary of Spiran Folklore', and "DIY Made Easy'. Nothing even close to aerodynamics and, from the sound of it, Lucinda wasn't having much better luck. There had to be hundreds of books, she thought miserably, and most of them were probably there for the express purpose of having a full bookcase.

After ten minutes of no success, both girls were at their wits' end. There were only three shelves in the middle left, and Keota, who had long since gotten off the ladder, was feeling cheated. It would be in the middle, wouldn't it?

And indeed it was, for a second later, Lucinda declared triumphantly, "Bingo, 'Aerodynamic Constructions of Commercial Motor Sport'!"

She pulled the book eagerly out of the case, only to be met with a cloud of disturbed dust. When the coughing had subdued, Keota also noticed a small notebook lying on the floor, as if it had been lodged haphazardly between the Aerodynamics book and another. Picking it up, she saw that it was a notebook of cream paper that had some sort of watermark printed on it. It consisted of a crest with small letters, although seemingly Al Bhed, with a strange looking chocobo and roses.

Lucinda peered at it, mystified, "I never knew Gippal's family had a crest. I just thought it was all those old nobility families that kept them now."

Keota shrugged, "If you're sure it's Gippal's. It could be anybody's, could have been stuck in one of those books that he never reads."

"Suppose." She said, taking the notebook from Keota and flipping through it absent-mindedly. "Wonder if there's anything written it?"

Keota almost laughed, "Elle, you are so nosy!" Seeing Lucinda sigh and shake her head, she took it back. "Well, might still be something on the front page."

"Now who's the nosy one?" Lucinda said indignantly, "Anyway, the cover page is blank."

"Yeah," Keota replied, peering at the first page intently, "but when you write on a piece of paper, if there's one underneath and if you lean hard enough, there's gonna be some imprint of what you wrote, right?"

"Ooooh!" Lucinda leaned over the page to, and Keota had just deciphered the name of Gippal written on the paper, when there was a clatter outside the door. Both girls looked up, horrified.

"What?" a curt man's voice from outside the door, which both recognised. "Why is the light on?"

"Are you expecting someone?" asked another, again easily recognisable. "You think someone's broken in?"

"Oh, shit." Lucinda muttered, before quickly grabbing Keota by the wrist and pulling her into a cupboard behind Gippal's desk.

When she had closed the door, Keota muttered frantically, "What happened to, 'Don't worry, Hutuc's gone out', or 'Don't worry, we have an excuse!'?"

"Yeah, well! I don't wanna get busted, alright! Hutuc sounds pissed, and if we get scolded in front of ZT, we'd never live it down!"

Keota groaned. At the end to a bad day, she was sat crouched in a tiny cupboard with Lucinda, inadvertently eavesdropping on her new employer.

_It couldn't possibly get worse, right?_


	8. The DC's Danse Macabre

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have a Crescent but no Moon… and it sucks.

**Author's Notes: Alright, Rina-san, Ciz admits. Yeah, it was Baralai. She hasn't written him since… she deleted all those god awful fics with him in it, so it was nice to try and get back in character. Anyway, Chapter 8, wow. Ciz has only really planned up to Chapter 13, so now she's kinda panicking. She didn't think she'd stick with the fic for so long (as usual). Oh well, a step into the unknown can be good sometimes… but yeah, another Gippal chapter! Woo hoo!**

**P.S. Also, I'd like to know if I should start putting an Al Bhed translation beside the actual sentence every time I include it (not for showing off purposes, really) or just put it at the bottom like I did before? That, and Ciz really wishes Word would stop thinking Al Bhed is French, it's getting really annoying.**

**P.P.S. Sorry for stupid length, but I stayed up past 2.30 am without coffee writing this for you, my readership, so just be grateful, okay! If I start a chapter, I'll be damned if I sleep before it's finished! Also, action scenes; They are NOT my thing at all, so don't give me too much grief, okay? **

**VIII. The DC's Danse Macabre**

On a ledge high above him, Gippal watched with Nooj, Leblanc and her cronies as the last pyreflies that had been Lenne and Shuyin disappeared. So it was finally all over. Yuna, Rikku and Paine jumped off the ledges down to their level, with Baralai following more slowly behind them. A rush of relief came over Gippal, who was happy to see he was okay.

With his friends alright and the world saved, Gippal thought it only fair to start worrying about himself. He went to sit at the edge of one of the many platforms that Vegnagun had conjured and looked out into the endless mass that was the Farplane. The previous battle against Vegnagun with Nooj had brought back a lot of memories, but it was enough for Gippal to realise he was a little out of condition. How long had it been before today since he had fought properly? Try as he might, Gippal couldn't think of an occasion since the infamous Operation Mi'ihen. With an inward sigh, he made a mental note to start going to the gym more.

Not noticing Rikku standing directly behind him, Gippal yawned loudly. How long had it been since he had last slept? Not much since he had entered the Farplane with Nooj. He supposed he could attribute that to being less than perfect in battle. Even so, it had been pretty embarrassing with everyone watching, especially Rikku. He heard someone cough from behind him, but thought nothing of it. So much for not relying on the High Summoner to save the day, but he supposed that it was inevitable Yuna would turn up for this. Some people just couldn't let go.

Rikku stood behind Gippal, scowling. He was ignoring her, as always, and it was really annoying. When they had finished with Shuyin, she had noticed Gippal over on that ledge, by himself, and had wondered what was wrong. She had been surprised that he had been beaten by Vegnagun. When they were children in Bikanel, Gippal had always been one of those unreachable people. Older, stronger, cooler, more popular… someone who took little interest in her. He wouldn't have even known her at all had it not been for her father's position, something Rikku was bitterly reminded of every time Gippal used her hated nickname, 'Cid's Girl'. When she was younger, she had always thought Gippal was the sort of person who could do anything. He had so much confidence and self belief… it was sort of embarrassing to admit now that she used to have a huge crush on him.

In any case, she had always wanted to get to know him better, but found he had never taken her seriously. Once, Gippal had been told by her father to look after her for an afternoon, babysitting to anyone else, and he had spent most of the time teasing her about said fact, or talking to Brother. That was what made him annoying, but he was alright when she had got to talk with him on her own. Then, he had suddenly disappeared from Home, and she was signing up for salvage missions, helping her brother. She had almost forgotten him.

Finally, Gippal had noticed her standing there and turned, cocking his head. Rikku couldn't suppress the thought of how adorable that was, until she heard him speak.

"What you staring at me for, blondie?" Gippal said, almost irritably. Honestly, what was the guy's problem all of a sudden?

"Don't give me that tone, Mr Anti-Social. It's not illegal to show some concern for another person!"

Gippal raised an eyebrow. She'd been concerned about him? Since when? Then again, he could be reading into it too much. It might not mean that at all. But still…

"Aw, you worried about me, Cid's Girl?" He replied, still trying to scope some sort of ulterior motive, namely that of trying to screw with his head.

Rikku groaned, "Hey, I have a name! It's Rikku, try remembering it someday."

"Whatever," He just couldn't figure out what her game was. He never remembered Rikku being like this. Although, admittedly, the last time he'd seen her she was almost half his height and annoying as anything. Just Brother's kid sister. Now, she was… dare he think it, bearable? Even… slightly attractive? Gippal shook himself. He really had been deprived of sleep recently.

Rikku sighed. He was as uninterested in her as always… but why did she care so much? She still had no idea what had come over her when she had gone with Yuna and Paine to the Machine Faction that first time. How embarrassingly obvious had she been at trying to get his attention? Why did she even want it, what made him so special? It was probably because he didn't give it to her that she wanted it. Yes, that was simple enough. No subconscious thoughts, no undisclosed feelings, just a little bit of psychology going on.

Although she was adamant on those words, she baffled even herself by saying next, "Anyway, I only wanted to ask you something." No she didn't… "I was thinking of throwing a big bash." She really hadn't… "You know, celebrate saving the world… again! What do you think?" She really didn't care what he thought…

Gippal remained passive. It was almost as if she was asking his permission to have a party. Why was that? _You idiot, _a little voice told him, _isn't it obvious? She wants you to go! I thought we were supposed to be good with women?_

"Oh," he muttered, unintentionally out loud.

Rikku blinked, "Oh what?"

He was brought back to reality with a small bump, "What?"

She shook her head, "Nothing, nothing… so?"

"Alright, I'll go! Are you happy now?"

"Who said you were getting an invite?" Rikku replied indignantly.

Watching the two of them, Baralai smiled, and when his eyes met those of Nooj and Paine, he knew it was a reciprocated feeling.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was midmorning at Luca General Hospital, and DC Habe was fed up. He was bored, hungry, tired, DC Macaro had it in for him and he had the worst job of them all: guarding a man who did absolutely nothing all day long. Although, at least in the last respect he had someone to share his misery with, DC Putsch. Putsch had been doing it longer than he had, and was all too willing to share his way of passing the time; making like their charge and doing nothing at all. It had been working well so far, but after two days, Habe found that getting paid to do nothing at all was getting a little dull.

"So…" He said lightly, anything to make conversation, "What do you make of him, Gippal that is?"

Putsch shrugged on the seat beside him, "Dunno. Likes playing practical jokes, I know that much. Apart from that he hasn't done much else that qualifies analysis." He yawned quietly.

"Well… I always thought he had to be dead smart, you know, to do all that inventing stuff. Kinda makes you jealous, guy like that. Smart, funny, good with women…"

Putsch smirked, "Everything you're not?"

Habe glared at him before continuing, "You know what I mean, I always thought he was pretty cool looking, but now… in the flesh, he's kind of a disappointment, if you know what I mean."

"What, you mean he looked interesting on TV, but now you've met him, so to speak, he's actually pretty dreary? Yeah, I kinda feel the same way." Putsch looked at the door they were guarding thoughtfully. "I used to think that maybe he'd be super-arrogant, being so famous and that but… well, all I can tell now is that's he's just really childish."

Habe shrugged, "Maybe chicks dig childish? They got that 'maternal instinct', right?"

"Perhaps, but I don't know about you, but any girlfriend I ever had laid into me for not being mature enough."

"Yeah, but you can probably get away with it if your rich." Habe reasoned.

"Ha, and rich we certainly ain't." Putsch said bitterly, "You can get away with anything if you're rich. I hate rich people… and murderers."

"You hate Gippal Okinoko, in other words?"

Putsch laughed, "Yeah, pretty much."

Inside the hospital room, Gippal was fully awake for the first time in days. Fully awake to hear the police officers outside laughing at him, calling him a murderer. He sighed, everyone thought he was guilty. He almost believed it himself sometimes, but there was always a small part of him that questioned why. Why, for example, he would even do something like that? Why then, if he didn't do it, did everyone think he had? Why, if that was the case, could he not remember anything and clear his name? It was frustrating to say the least. He just wanted to go back to sleep…

As it would happen, Gippal would not be given his wish. A few moments later, there was talking outside the door, but not the voices of the police officers. This was one he consciously recognised, it was Hutuc. He felt ashamed, he'd barely wondered about the Faction at all. He hadn't even thought about how they would be coping with it, what Hutuc would have to be doing to take charge. He sat up and awaited the arrival of his right hand man.

Soon enough, Hutuc's blunt, blonde self was in the door, looking only slightly more harassed than usual. Gippal was glad to see he was well, and would have said so, if he was not so anxious to hear how his Faction was doing.

"Gippal…" Hutuc couldn't help smiling, Gippal's facial expression was just as he predicted. Anxious and impatient, showing his youth. Some people didn't change much as they aged, and Gippal was one of those people.

The first time he had approached him, Hutuc thought Gippal was a strange, although certainly gifted, boy. Although a 'family friend', Hutuc had never actually spoken to him in any other pretence than a simple hello or goodbye, so he couldn't claim to know much about the boy he'd known for years. Because of this, Hutuc was surprised that it was he who Gippal turned to to help realise his dream; to create a place for young Al Bhed to work with machina away from the constraints of society and their parents. Ever since then, Hutuc had regarded Gippal as a younger brother of sorts, and had come to be able to read him like a book.

"Oui fyhd du ghuf ruf drehkc yna yd dra Faction?" Hutuc asked, although he really didn't need an answer, and indeed didn't wait for one, "Fa teth'd pameaja ed. Hud vun y caluht." (You want to know how things are at the Faction? We didn't believe it. Not for a second.)

For the first time in a long while, Gippal almost felt like smiling, "Kmyt du rayn E's hud dra uhmo uha. Cu… ruf'c picehacc paah?" (Glad to hear I'm not the only one. So… how's business been?)

"Ymnekrd. Drana fyc y ped uv puoluddehk yd vencd, pid sucd uv Spira ryja caddmat ypuid ed. Famm, eh dryd nacbald, yhofyo." Hutuc paused briefly. "Drana fyc y ped uv yh untaym yd dra vihanym, fa dneat du gaab ed muf gao, pid…" (Alright. There was a bit of boycotting at first, but most of Spira have settled about it. Well, in that respect, anyway. There was a bit of an ordeal at the funeral, we tried to keep it low key, but…)

Gippal shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't envisaged a funeral of any kind, but he supposed he would be more horrified if he found out that their bodies had been left to lie in some morg.

Hutuc offered him a smile, "Pid ahuikr ypuid fung… Ruf yna oui?" (But enough about work… How are you?)

He was silent for several seconds, unsure of how to reply. "Yc famm yc E luimt pa, E cibbuca. E kiacc E zicd… tuh'd fyhd du pameaja ed." (As well as I could be, I suppose. I guess I just… don't want to believe it."

Hutuc nodded, "E ihtancdyht. Fa'ja ymm ryt silr suna desa du kad icat du ed dryh oui ryja. Dryd oui'na ymnekrd ec uha drehk, ed'mm pa hela du pnehk cusa kuut hafc pylg vun y lryhka." (I understand. We've all had much more time to get used to it than you have. That you're alright is one thing, it'll be nice to bring some good news back for a change.)

Gippal gave him a wry smile, "Ec ed kuut hafc?" (Is it good news?)

"Uv luinca ed ec! Ajanouha'c paah funneat celg." He sighed, and then lowered his voice to just above a whisper "Tuh'd funno, dra bumela syo ryja ajetahla dryd oui tet ed, pid fa ryja zicd yc silr du cyo oui teth'd." (Of course it is! Everyone's been worried sick. Don't worry, the police may have evidence that you did it, but we have just as much to say you didn't.)

Gippal couldn't help stare at him, hoping he looked grateful. They really had gotten behind him, in spite of everything. The thought of so many people who were willing to believe in you, even in the face of damning evidence, was quite heartening.

Hutuc sighed once more, "E't cdyo muhkan ev E luimt, pid dra bumela yna cicbeleuic uv sa. E ryja du ku huf, pid E'mm pa pylg cuuh, tuh'd funno ypuid dryd." (I'd stay longer if I could, but the police are suspicious of me. I have to go now, but I'll be back soon, don't worry about that.)

He nodded, but Gippal wanted to know one more thing, "Hutuc… ec drec dra vencd desa oui'ja jecedat sa nalahdmo?" (Hutuc… is this the first time you've visited me recently?)

Hutuc, who was headed for the door, turned to look at him, "Ed'c dra vencd desa cehla oui'ja paah ytseddat, oac… Fro, ryc cusauha amca paah du caa oui? Ryc yhouha cyet yhodrehk du oui?" (It's the first time since you've been admitted, yes… Why, has someone else been to see you? Has anyone said anything to you?)

He blushed, "Hu… E fyc zicd fuhtanehk. Pa caaehk oui drah." (No… I was just wondering. Be seeing you then.)

"Oac, ymnekrd." Hutuc gave him a suspicious look, but nothing more. "E'mm pa pylg dusunnuf." (Yes, alright. I'll be back tomorrow.)

"Poa…" (Bye…)

As Gippal watched Hutuc leave with a nod, he couldn't help but feel lonelier than when he had been on his own.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

A few hours later, and Gippal was awoken by the White Woman, come to give him lunch.

"Lunch time!" She sing-songed, setting the tray of food, a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee, onto the lap of a half awake, half disturbed Gippal.

"You're awfully cheery today." He couldn't help but comment.

"Oh, that's because something big is happening today." She said, smiling. "Something I've been waiting for to happen for a long time."

Wow, so she's finally gonna get laid, Gippal thought, but was wise enough to keep the comment to himself.

"What's that then?" He asked politely as he could, sipping at his coffee.

The White Woman giggled, "Oh, you're going to die, that's all."

Gippal rolled his eyes, "Yeah, why would I expect anything less from you?" He sighed and shook his head, "You can go now, it's not funny."

The White Woman laughed, "Oh no, you don't understand. This isn't a joke, I'm not faking."

Gippal set his coffee cup down irritably, "Oh really, how's that then?" He looked up to see a gun pointed at his forehead. "Well, I can go for that."

"Oh, and that's not all." She opened the top half of her shirt to reveal a series of explosives, Machine Faction made, ironically enough.

"Wonderful."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was lunchtime at last, and Putsch and Habe were leisurely strolling back to their guard posts with two large sandwiches from the hospital canteen, when they heard something unusual. From a small door to their left there was a large bang. The two stopped and stared. There was quickly a second bang, and a third and fourth in quick succession. Briefly glancing at Putsch, Habe opened the door and saw an unusual sight; a semi-naked woman who was bound and gagged tumbled out of the tiny closet.

Habe quickly pulled the gag off and demanded an explanation, lest he arrest her for indecent exposure. The frightened young woman quickly explained that she was a nurse, whose main charge was that of Gippal, and that she had been going to give him lunch, when she had been hit from behind. Next thing she knew, she was in the closet and heard footsteps nearby, so she thought she would try and escape.

Habe looked from the woman to Putsch. This was not good. Really not good, and to make it even worse, it was nearly all their fault. Leaving the young woman, who was only wearing her underwear, lying on hospital floor, the two quickly ran down the corridor and up the flight of stairs that would take them to the floor they were already supposed to be on. When they arrived outside Gippal's door, only the worst was to be confirmed.

Through the door, which was firmly locked, they could see a young woman, similar in appearance to the one they had just left, staring straight back at them with a deadly smile, grasping Gippal in a head lock with one hand, and pointing a gun at his head with another. As if that wasn't all, Habe was almost sure he could see a bomb strapped to her chest.

"Yevon above…" Putsch murmured, pulling out his mobile phone from his jacket and speed dialling the DCI. "Hello, Governor? Um, we might have a bit of a problem here… Yeah, you see the thing is, there's this woman in there, she's locked the door. How did she get in? Um, well, she snuck in when he weren't looking. Anyway, the bad news is, she's got a gun… and a bomb. No, I don't know what she wants; all she's doing so far is grinning at us… it's really creepy. Yeah, so, some back up would be nice… Right, yes, I'll try and diffuse the situation in the meantime… Right. Bye."

Habe frowned, "He was angry, right?"

"He wasn't shouting…" Putsch said, frowning, "which must mean he's pretty pissed at us, yeah."

"Urg… I suppose we'd better try and see what her demands are." Habe frowned, "Uh, have you ever negotiated before?"

Putsch shook his head. "Never. You?"

Habe groaned, "We are so screwed."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The White Woman said nothing as she and Gippal watched the two horrified police officers outside the door, calling someone on a mobile phone and looking generally upset. Gippal was quite annoyed that, although they had given him two guards, both had allowed this psychotic nurse in without question. Some use they where. She held him in an uncomfortable head lock, not that she would care if he where comfortable or not, and kept the gun against his head steady. She was waiting for something.

Outside the door, the two officers stared back into the room at them. They, too, where waiting for something. Eventually, after much vehement discussion, the young brown haired man that Gippal had encountered once before stuck his face fully in front of the window.

"Um… can you hear me in there?" The White Woman merely nodded. "Oh, okay then. Right, we want to know what it is you want. What are your demands?"

"What I want," The White Woman replied slowly, and in a rather laid-back manner, "if for him to die. My demands are that of justice."

"Pimmcred." Gippal muttered.

The White Woman jabbed her gun painfully into his forehead, "Did you say something?" Gippal did not reply, and she relaxed the gun slightly.

The brown haired man looked worried, "Oh, I see. Uh, this justice you're speaking of; does he absolutely have to die in it?" She nodded happily. "Right… so, we can't come to some sort of compromise on this?"

"Oh no. In a matter of minutes, he will be dead, of that I can assure you."

"Then why are dragging it out like this," Gippal hissed at her, "why haven't you killed me already?"

"Because," she said malevolently, "I'm waiting for the media to get here. I want them to know who finally brought justice back to Spira, to know the one who killed you,_ my name_. It'll go down in history, they'll all thank me in the end. And you, you won't get away with your crimes."

"We'll stop you, you crazy bitch!" Heckled the second officer, who was still out of sight.

"Oh, will you? You see, I'm expecting some company any second now. I'm sure they'd disagree with you."

Suddenly, from outside the door, there were screams and gunshots. The brown haired man ducked from view, both officers returning the fire.

Gippal simply laughed, "You're talking about justice, but you don't know the meaning of the word."

The White Woman pushed him back down onto the bed, holding the gun steady in his face, "Oh and how did you figure that out?"

"Well, taking the law into your own hands, that's hardly just, is it? Killing someone, that's not moral or righteous." He sneered at her, "What you're doing isn't justice, it's just forcing your opinion onto other people."

"And with good reason!" She snapped back, "What right have you to question my morality, a murderer like you?"

"I suppose that would be true if I really was a murderer. Unfortunately for you, I'm not, so you'll excuse me if I have the moral high ground here."

The White Woman laughed, "Don't try and fool me! I know you murdered Lady Rikku and your little girl! I was there!"

"There?" Gippal breathed, disbelievingly, "What the fuck where you doing in my house?"

The White Woman stared at him in disgust, "Waiting for her to come home, of course. All I wanted was an autograph, a conversation with her… but you, and your stupid 'bodyguards', you wouldn't let me!"

Gippal suddenly remembered where he had seen this woman before. Three years ago, there was a woman who was stalking Rikku, following her, sending her letters and pictures she had taken of her. Rikku had been terrified to leave the house for a long time. The woman had eventually been caught and jailed, and they had never heard from her again. He was no convinced, the stalker and this woman were one and the same; Naema Tulah.

"You… why would they let you out of prison without telling us?" Gippal muttered breathlessly.

"They didn't need to, as far as they're concerned, I'm still in there." Naema was grinning again. "Amazing how far a little knowledge of magic will get you."

"You… saw me do it?" Gippal gaped at her, "If you were there, and I really did do it, then why didn't I shoot you as well?"

"Because I ran, stupid! I saw a man point a gun at Lady Rikku's head and shoot her in cold blood!" Naema was hysterical now, and beginning to cry. "It was you, I know it was! Who do you think phoned the ambulance, useless as they were? And when I got back, there you were. Lying on your kitchen floor, taking the coward's way out. You disgust me, and I'm not alone."

Gippal glanced out the door to the on going fire fight outside, "So you tricked other people into believing your sad little story? And for what, to get some attention and to kill a few innocent people? No, you disgust me!"

"Well, there's no need for that any longer." Her face hardened. "In all sincerity, I hope you go straight to the Farplane. At least then Spira will be rid of you forever!"

As Naema cocked the gun, Gippal felt a rush of adrenaline. It was the "fight or flight" mentality kicking, and he chose to fight. As she was about to fire, Gippal kicked upwards, aiming for her stomach, and flung himself off the bed to avoid the gun shot. Naema went flying backwards, and her gun flew up in the air. Slightly winded, Gippal watched as it landed a few feet away from him. He grabbed it and pulled back an advantage.

He quickly got to his feet and pointed it at the still grounded woman's head, "Now, what was it you were saying?"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"Oh, will you? You see, I'm expecting some company any second now. I'm sure they'd disagree with you."

Company, thought DC Putsch, that can't be a good sign. And indeed it wasn't, for a second later, several bullets shot past his head. Drawing his gun, a regulation handgun, Putsch turned to Habe, who was crouching.

"What the…?" Habe mumbled, throwing himself to the left as more bullets fired at the two DC's from the other side of the corridor.

But anytime Putsch went to look up, he was met with emptiness and more bullets. On a second burst of fire from the East side, he heard Habe swear loudly. Looking over, he saw his friend bleeding from the right arm and shoulder.

"Shit, we need out of here! Where the hell is a back up team when you need them?" Putsch yelled, to no one in particular.

Groaning, Habe spotted a small closet, similar to the one they had found the young woman in earlier, quite near to where they were. If only they could get to it, they could get a bit of shelter from the barrage. Putsch shot back at the West side, although he wasn't very confident that he hit anyone, and Habe took the initiative to make a run for it. With Putsch following, he yanked open the door and threw himself inside. Putsch stayed out of the door a second too much, however, as he slumped into the closet, breathing heavily. He'd taken two shots to the back.

Habe rushed over, and when Putsch nodded to confirm he was, in fact, still alive, he took aim at the West side of firers. He didn't want them to get the impression it was only him left to fight. He wanted to keep them at bay for as long as possible, just until the back up team got there. As long as they weren't cornered into the closet, and as long as he didn't run out of ammo anytime soon, the two of them just might make it.

After reloading, Habe quickly twisted around the door and shot at the East side. He hit two of the now visible, and advancing, militia, but had to quickly duck back in to avoid getting hit again by the West. Trying his best to ignore the pain, Habe switched his gun from his right to left hand, and tried to aim again. He wasn't naturally left handed, but it was less painful this way.

By this time, Putsch had gotten to his feet again and, although he felt he could barely move and Habe shook his head at him, he felt he had to do something. Trying to get his gun hand steady, Putsch tried to move to help Habe, only to look on in horror as his friend got hit in the stomach and chest. Quickly grabbing Habe back inside the closet, he shot back angrily at the gunmen in question. It was like his father, who had been a Crusader, always used to say, "If you're gonna go out, go out with a bang." And, as the mercenaries slowly surrounded the door of where Habe and he where sheltering, he decided that that was exactly what he was going to do.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Ten minutes after receiving the call from his two youngest detectives, DCI Macaro, along with the rest of his team and all of the uniform they could assemble at such short notice, had arrived outside Luca General Hospital. As far as DC Putsch had told him, there was only one woman who was involved in the siege of Gippal, and even then she was only an amateur with a gun. However, when he had talked to the terrified security staff and nurses who had escaped the hospital's North Building in time, he soon discovered the true extent of the situation; a group of militia types had stormed the North Building, killing indiscriminately and generally causing chaos. From what he could get from people, there were from 20-30 of these gunmen, and they all seemed to be heading for the fourth floor, the floor Macaro knew that Gippal was located on.

His first concern was trying to get Gippal, his two officers and anyone else who was still trapped in the building out alive. However, just as Macaro was thinking over strategies, a rumbling sound came from the North Building. Looking upwards, like many others, he just caught the sight of a large explosion before being throw to the ground in its wake.


	9. Burned by the Sun

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have two brown eyes. This is disappointing, because what I really want is one red eye and one blue eye, but I won't be getting them anytime soon. Woe.

**Author's Note: Well, yes, the chapter title is a lyric plagiarised from Oasis by Gackt, but really… that doesn't matter. What matters is… there is no plan for this chapter. Oops. And… Ciz only just realised that most of this fic is based on single lyrics from Gackt songs... It's not conscious; at least she doesn't think it is. Oh, and if anyone is interested, Ciz was originally going to call the last chapter, "Pure Terrorist, Honest Moralist", but… well, too many vanilla flavoured connotations, she thinks… **

**P.S. Altogether now, "Group Angst"! Oh, God, the _emo_ in this chapter. Someone shoot me… please. Or not, because, what's this? Canon? Never! Okay, I'll shut up now… **

**IX. Burned by the Sun **

It was midday in Luca, and DS Meva stood in her house, unsure of it. The mirror before her revealed a tall, slim woman with dark hair staring back at her. Her pale brown eyes glanced over the black suit she was wearing, as her intention for the mirror had been to check for faults in it. In reality, she was using it to think. Think of everything up to this point. Think of how she had seen herself like this before, and had hoped not to see it again. 10 years ago, she had seen the same image, only younger. A more youthful tinge to her face, but the same expression. The impassivity she usually held at such events was the only thing that hadn't changed.

"_You okay?" As Meva looked into her reflection, a tall, blonde teenage boy stood beside her. She could only nod._

"_It's… really happening, then?"_

"_Yeah," said the boy, looking grim, "but at least she's going to rest. We have a chance to say goodbye, and that's enough, I think."_

"_Is it enough, just saying goodbye?" Meva looked up to stare into the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. "What if I want more, Kizu?"_

"_The spiral… it doesn't work that way."_

Meva left the mirror, and located her bag. She was to meet the rest of the team in the city centre at 12.30, for the procession to the small graveyard on the outskirts of the city. She hated sendings, but it wasn't as if she couldn't go. She wouldn't allow herself to miss it, what would He think? Truthfully, when it got down to things, she hadn't known Him that well at all, but He was still a friend, a colleague. It never seemed to matter at these occasions anyway.

She left the house quietly, and headed down the flight of steps to the pavement below. It seemed almost pointless, to walk to the city centre, only to walk back to the outskirts, where her home was. Sure enough, it was a tribute to Him, but was public displays of grief really necessary. Did they really have to drag it out so that others could stand and gawk as his coffin rode by?

"_It's like they're putting her on display! Like some exhibit! Why do that?"_

"_Hazu, other people need to show their respect, too!" The boy explained calmly, walking along the wooden path beside Meva as they headed to the docks. "Just because they didn't know her too well, doesn't mean they don't have a right to it. Everyone lost something yesterday; we've all got to stick it out together."_

"_I wonder why we bother, sometimes." Meva muttered, more to herself than the boy. "Everything we work for gets destroyed; it's been that way for years. Nothing changes!"_

"_Because everyone believes it'll stop someday."_

There was hardly anyone around, despite it being a sunny Saturday. Meva supposed it would pick up later, as it always did, and thought no more of it. It took her twenty minutes to reach the centre of Luca, marked out by the entrance to the Stadium and the large group of people congregated there. She quickly spotted the red hair of DI Leda among the crowd, and went to join her.

There were only fleeting salutations between the two. Everyone that was left of the Criminal Investigation Department was there also; DCI Macaro, Carter, Jackson… even Keota had found an excuse to come. When you were in a close-knit team such as theirs, burying one of your own was like burying a brother or sister. Indeed, they were playing the part of the grieving family, the seven that were left.

_She had been organising a group of uniform when she heard it. The terrible tremors coming from the building behind her made Jackson beside her swear in surprise. She had only just turned to look when there was a flash of white and she was thrown to the ground. The noise was deafening and the light almost blinding, but Meva looked up regardless and saw the entire top half of North hospital building in flames. There was a second, smaller tremor, as the fire's rapid decent down the floors was made clearly visible and aided by the outside hydrogen gas lines that supplied power to the building. Her heart froze, thinking of all the people trapped inside the building._

"_Somebody get on to the gas company and tell them to shut off the supply!" Barked DCI Macaro, suddenly taking charge of everything. "Someone else get the fire brigade, too, and NO ONE is to go near that building until they get here, alright? In the mean time, get the civilians evacuated from all the buildings then organize yourselves into rescue groups… MOVE!"_

_Meva, who like many others had watching, stunned, suddenly broke into motion. The hospital staff and patients were all screaming, lamenting the lives of those still inside, and she struggled to draw them back from the blaze. The rest of the team occupied themselves with similar tasks, although she knew they were the same as her. They, too, wanted to do the same as the panicked people they were trying to move. Meva wanted to scream, or charge in and save Putsch and Habe, but her training prevented her from trying. Her training taught her to shut out the emotions and keep going._

The alarm on someone's watch chimed, and the people suddenly began to move. The coffin bearers, led by the small figure of former-summoner Kellick, who would be performing the sending, lifted his coffin and began to move along down the street, and away from the statue. Passers-by stopped to watch in silence as the rest of the people gathered followed them. His mother was walking just in front of Meva, his father being one of the bearers. Save the DCI, no one had spoken a word to them, nor they to any one. Some people expected that things like this wouldn't happen when the Calm came, but human nature as it was, it was inevitable.

When the funeral was over, the summoner had done his part and the people had left, there was only one man left standing by the side of the grave. The young man looked down at the newly covered soil. He could barely believe it; only yesterday had he been joking with his friend, but fast forward twenty four hours, and he was watching his soul get sent to the Farplane. The doctors in Luca General's South building would have preferred he stay away today, for he too had his injuries, but he couldn't help himself. The man that sat in that shallow grave had saved his life, even though he had no need.

There had been no need for anyone to die that day, but they had. And what for, so they could get to one man? Why did it have to turn out like this? They had joined the force together to 'change the world', but now he would have to try alone. The Spiral of Death was still alive in Spira.

_Amidst the fighting, Habe looked to see Putsch standing up, gripping his gun determinedly. He shook his head at him, not wanting him to get hurt any further. Stubbornly, however, Putsch raised his gun hand, trying to steady it and help him out. Habe sighed to himself. Well, if he wasn't to be persuaded otherwise… He himself leaned out of the door once more. With Putsch back in action, although he didn't know how, their chances were better. From the West Side, there were three militias dangerously close. He couldn't hit them from where he was, so he decided to risk it and charge out the door._

_Running out, and firing with his left hand, Habe was able to hit one of them before he felt it. There was a horrible burning sensation in his shoulder, which spread like fire to his chest. The pain was crippling, and he felt himself keel over. What could he do? He was hit and exposed, was this it? He felt someone, probably Putsch, grab him. He was inside the closet once more. He tried to get up again, but was paralyzed. The sound of bullets was growing fainter._

_He watched as Putsch drew back from the door, desperately wrenching Habe's gun from his hand and firing at people just outside the door. So they were surrounded, they would be making their last stand now. The sound of bullets whipped through the air, breaking the dimming sound. Putsch had stopped firing, but the militia was still at the door. Bullets keep filling the closet, but not one seemed to hit Habe. Putsch, who was still standing steadfast in front of him, still would not fire. Why? _

_Suddenly a roar echoed through the building. All other noise stopped, and Putsch feel backwards on top of Habe. He heard the militia screaming. There was an intense heat, and the light was almost blinding. He could barely hear a thing anymore. Beside him, Putsch did not move. There was a second roar, and the door of the closet slammed shut, only to be blown off seconds later by the force of the blast. The door landed on top of Habe and Putsch, knocking the former unconscious. _

_Habe had awoken later in the burnt out closet, and found Putsch still beside him, cold to the world. _

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The moment that Habe eventually walked away from Putsch's grave was the moment that Gippal Okinoko woke up. Although awake, Gippal dared not open his eye. He could tell it was already light and every part of his body seemed to ache at the thought of movement. He lay there, in his hospital bed, for almost 20 minutes before attempting to move. Or, at least, what Gippal thought was his hospital bed. When he did open his eye, he was met by a nasty surprise, and it was not the level of light; he was in a completely alien room.

Gippal looked around, perplexed. This new room, painted red, was larger than his old one, and was devoid of any medical equipment. There was still a window, with a view of the sea, only the sea seemed a lot closer than it had done before. Indeed, he was startled when a seagull landed on the windowsill and cawed loudly. There were also several wooden chests stored in one corner, and a small fireplace with a painting of what appeared to be the Macalania Woods before they had died hanging above it. In all, it would have been quite a homely atmosphere, if Gippal had not been creeped out by its sudden appearance.

Lying down in a combination of fatigue and puzzlement, Gippal spotted a chair beside his bed. On this chair there was two things; an envelope, addressed to himself, and a phone. Blinking, he reached out and opened the envelope. The small note inside said:

_Gippal,_

_Call me when you read this._

_Nooj._

Gippal stared at the note for several seconds. Nooj? Too many questions revolved around Gippal's head to make any sense, so he decided to try and appease them by calling him on the number at the bottom of the brief note, written in Nooj's brusque but neat hand writing.

The phone rang only twice, "Yes?" asked the manly voice of Nooj on the other end of the line.

"Nooj…?" Gippal muttered with uncertainty. Too many 'Why's where swirling around in his head for him to sound otherwise.

"Ah, so you're awake. Don't move, I'll be with you shortly." Nooj hung up.

"Hey-!" Gippal shouted into the silence. _Damn Nooj…_

He set the phone back down on the chair and lay back. Why was he here? As far as he could remember, nothing unusual had happened before he had gone to sleep. Gippal laughed to himself. His memory hadn't been very trustworthy lately so, knowing his own luck, something important had happened.

He tried retracing his 'steps' on the last day he remembered. He had woken up, ate breakfast, went to sleep, woken up again… what else? With a slight twinge, Gippal pictured Hutuc. Oh yes, of course, Hutuc had visited him, but he'd left again. Then what? Another pang in his temple confirmed that he'd gone to sleep again, and woken up for lunch. Lunch… what did he have for lunch? Well, there'd been coffee. Yes, he remembered drinking some coffee, and… a sandwich? Although he couldn't remember what type.

Sighing, Gippal attempted to remember anything past that. He drew a blank. He frowned, that wasn't a good sign. The White Woman had come in, given him his lunch, he'd taken a drink of coffee… had he talked to her? Yes, he had, she was disturbingly cheerful. What else? A third stab of pain in his temple brought with it images of the White Woman, a gun, the two guards outside his door and some explosives. That definitely wasn't encouraging to Gippal. Further still, he remembered a conversation, bullets being fired, pointing a gun at the deluded nurse himself… and then there had been fire. A lot of fire. The fire baffled him.

Before he could start on the fire, the door opened. Gippal sat up, and Nooj entered the small room. Without a word, he walked over to the seat, lifted the phone and note and put them to one side, and sat down, with Gippal following his every move. Gippal stared at Nooj, demanding with his eyes an explanation. Nooj smiled.

"It's been a while." He said, calmly.

"Ha!" Gippal exclaimed, "You could say it like that, yeah. Been a little shorter on my side, I'd imagine."

"I would say so." Nooj replied, acting as if they were meeting under entirely different circumstances.

"So…" Gippal looked around the room conversationally, "Youth League doing okay?"

"Quite the same as always, I'm afraid. Although, we did have a little spat with your workers when the Youth League declared its neutrality to your, ahem, 'situation'."

"Ah…" he said, shifting comfortably, "about that…?"

"Of course." Nooj nodded, "Although we are neutral, we offered to assist the police in finding a new location secure enough to hold you. It would have been unwise of them to keep you in Luca, as their may have been a public backlash after the incident at the hospital."

"Incident…" Gippal muttered. He was getting a very bad feeling from this now. "You mean the fire?"

"It wasn't just a fire; it was an explosion, and a large one at that. An entire building of the hospital was destroyed." Nooj sighed. "The militia group after you shot at one of the hydrogen gas lines, and the whole place went up. 15 people died and a lot more where wounded."

Gippal was shocked, "All to get to me? Damn…"

"Understandably, the general populous are less than pleased about the whole thing. They feel it's all your fault, and were even more upset when they discovered you had survived."

Gippal groaned, "Fantastic, now more of Spira hate me. This is sure turning out to be a great week to be me."

"Just be glad people don't know you're here, apart from Baralai and myself. They'll find out eventually, but for now you're relatively safe." He paused, "You understand I can't let you leave…"

Gippal batted him away with a hand, "Of course, of course. I'm arrested, right? Don't worry; I'm not thinking of legging it."

"That's good to hear… I take it you'll be pleading innocent when the time comes."

He couldn't help but laugh wryly, "I don't even know if I am innocent."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't remember. I don't remember anything about that night, except leaving the restaurant and driving home. And that's it. Nada." He sighed.

Nooj paused for several seconds to consider his statement, "Do you think that, instead of having amnesia, that you've just blocked those memories out? You could try a conscious effort to remember them."

"I've already tried to remember!" Gippal snapped impatiently.

"No, I mean, have you tried remembering with the knowledge that you already know you have those memories?"

He paused. What in Spira was Nooj going on about? Knowing he had the memories? But he didn't know! Nonetheless, what if he really did, and Nooj was right? What happened after they got in the car that night? With a great throb in head, Gippal gripped the bed sheets. There were memories coming back alright, just not ones that he could pin down. Until…

_There was a large yawn from the backseat. Looking around with a smile, Gippal saw Rikku buckling up his half asleep daughter. She looked so cute. Rikku closed the door of the hover and got into the seat to his right. _

"_Geez, E's nayto vun pat socamv!" She exclaimed, yawning. (Geez, I'm ready for bed myself!)_

_Gippal smiled, "Famm, ed'c hud vyn... yc muhk yc E tuh'd vymm ycmaab socamv." (Well, it's not so far… as long as I don't fall asleep myself.)_

"_Tu dryd yht E'mm gemm oui!" Rikku muttered as he started up the engine. (Do that and I'll kill you!)_

"_Hud ev E gemm oui vencd!" Gippal said with a grin. (Not if I kill you first!)_

"_Ha!__Yc ev oui't tyna!" (Ha! As if you'd dare!)_

_After a short drive, they were on the porch of their home. Gippal fiddled around with a set of keys, before opening the door with a yawn. As Rikku and Roxy trailed off into the living room, Gippal checked the answering machina. There was a short message from Paine, wishing Rikku a happy birthday, but nothing else. He entered the living room with a yawn. Rikku was lying on the sofa with Roxy by her side._

"_E's kuhhy mulg dra pylg tuun... fuh'd pa y sehida." He said with another yawn. (I'm gonna lock the back door... won't be a minute.)_

"_Gyo." Rikku replied, not bothering to open her eyes. (Kay.)_

_Gippal moved into the kitchen, stifling another yawn. He checked the back door to find it open. He shook his head, he was so careless sometimes. However, before he could lock the door, Gippal got it inside his head that there was something from his workshop that he needed. He didn't know what it was, but he had a feeling about it, so he opened the door and headed outside. _

_It was a warm, breezy night as Gippal crossed the garden and opened the door to his workshop. He stepped inside, and the first thing that caught his eye was his rifle. He stared at it for several seconds… but when he blinked, all he saw was the bed sheets he was gripping._

Gippal froze for several seconds, his breaths coming in short, fast bursts. That was all? He couldn't see what really happened? Why the focus on his gun? Unless…

"What was it?" Nooj cut in, sounding concerned.

Gippal swallowed and tried to control his breathing, "I… remembered something."

Nooj stared, "Anything important?"

Gippal was at a loss for words. The emphasis he had given his gun didn't necessarily mean anything… but. There was always that 'but' at the back of his mind. The 'but's, the 'what if's, the doubts… it was infuriating.

"I remember going home." He started slowly, for fear that even these fleeting recollections would escape him, "I… went in the house, and they were in the living room. I went to check if the back door was locked, but I decided to go out to my workshop instead. I opened the door, and then…"

"And then?"

"I…" Gippal shook his head. "I was staring at my rifle. I don't know why, and then that was it. I was back into it."

"That's not exactly promising news." Nooj admitted bluntly.

"No… because it just makes me wonder, 'what if". What if I did?"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The grey returned to Gippal again that night. It returned, but did not leave him on the path. It left in that woman's cell, but he was sitting on the bench that he had encountered Roxy on. Neither his daughter nor the woman seemed to be around, so Gippal took to staring at the endless sky, through the hole in the ceiling he himself had created, as he had done before.

"What was reflected there when you looked up into that sky?" A quiet voice asked from behind him. Although he didn't turn around, he knew that it was that women, sitting on an identical bench directly behind his.

"I see… my life reflected on those clouds."

"You're tormented by the fickle flow of time?"

"I… suppose. I don't know what to do."

"You should guide that cold wind before the storm."

"I… don't know what that means. But… I want to know." Gippal sighed. "I want to see you again… I don't know if I hurt you or not…"

The woman sighed sadly, "But I'm not the one reflected in your eyes."


	10. Ephemeral Prayers

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have a blank canvas and colourless paint, but no brush. Can I still chase that dream?

Author's Notes: Why the title "Ephemeral Prayers" was chosen? It means a fleeting prayer to the order of time and nature, to both grant and end the drops of rain in one's heart. That may sound cheesy, but the meaning is there none the less for anyone who wants to interpret it. Also, you may have gathered that Ciz likes reflections and mirrors. They have such aesthetical worth, it's a shame most people hate them. A Lycaena Dispar is a butterfly, but has been extinct from the UK since the 1920s. There's a bit of trivia for you…

**X. Ephemeral Prayers**

"So, what do you think?"

"It's… nice."

"Just 'nice'?"

"There's nothing wrong with 'nice', is there?"

"Not really, but… is that all you have to say? If you don't like it, you can just tell me."

"You're being paranoid."

"Oh, just say something other than nice, will you? It's the blandest word there is!"

"Well, thanks. Alright then, it's 'fine'."

"Oh, you're insufferable."

"No, you're insufferable. I have better things to do…"

"Is that so? And I was under the impression you were just sitting there doing nothing."

Baralai sighed, "I was thinking. And quite peacefully, too, until you decided to interrupt."

"Oh, well excuse me for intruding on the oh-so-important thoughts of the high and mighty Praetor."

"Would you not do that? The annual trade meeting with the Al Bhed's coming up soon…"

"Ah ha! And so we come to the real reason you've been so difficult recently! Gippal, as usual."

Baralai scowled, "I am not being difficult. In any case, could you blame me for being just a bit worried?"

"Oh, so you found out your best friend was a psychotic murdering bastard. Are you still getting ate up about that? Just because he could have turned around and literally stabbed you in the back…"

"Lycaena, would you just shut up?" Baralai put his head in his hands as he looked at her over the pile of paperwork piled on the desk of his office. "He… I know he wouldn't… he's not like that."

She flicked some ginger hair out of her eyes, "Okay, believe what you want, dear cousin. But you can't deny it forever; it's not going to go away."

"I wish it was that simple…" He muttered, watching her from his window as she left the temple and walked down the street, to the centre of Bevelle.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

_It was a warm summer evening in Bevelle, and Baralai had decided to open the window to let some fresh air in. It was always stuffy in his office at this time of year, and he usually reflected at how he would rather be outside than in meetings or doing work. The soft breeze that drifted in brought with it the smell of freshly cut grass, as the gardeners had been at work earlier in the day. Baralai had gone down to watch them when he had taken a break for some lunch. He always found it peaceful._

_Suppressing a small yawn, he looked to the memo he was penning before he had gotten up. He supposed he could finish it now, finish the last part of the speech he was to give at the New Yevon Party Conference the next day and then have an early night. Alternatively, he could leave that to someone else and go home, where he knew a half tub of his favourite strawberry ice cream would be waiting for him. Well, he did deserve a break every once in a while…_

_Baralai got up from his desk and stretched, deciding on abusing his leader powers and getting his ice cream. He gathered up some papers and was putting them when a book caught his eye. It was a small, black photo album, lying on top of one of his filing cabinets. Puzzled, Baralai walked over and examined the book. He recognized it as the one Gippal had brought over on his last visit. It was an album of pictures of himself, Gippal, Nooj and Paine, with some from their time in the Crimson Squad and others from their reunion after Vegnagun. Gippal had found it out of the blue, and had taken it to show Baralai almost immediately. He smiled. Gippal could be so forgetful sometimes, in fact, he probably hadn't even noticed it was missing._

_He looked at his phone, wondering whether or not to tell Gippal he had it. But was that really a good enough excuse for a phone call? Not that he expressly needed an excuse, of course, it would just be a little awkward. He was musing on it, when he remembered something. It was Rikku's birthday today and he had completely forgotten. That gave all the more reason to call, but would they be in? He knew Gippal always took her out somewhere fancy on her birthday, so they might not be there. Baralai looked to the round, yellow clock on the wall, which read 6:36. Given time difference from Djose to Bevelle, it might be late enough there for them to be back. It would be about ten thirty in their time._

_He picked up the phone and dialled, only to be disappointed. The line was busy. Baralai sighed. Never mind, he could always try again when he got home. He walked to the door and opened the door, prepared to leave, when the ring of his phone cut through his thoughts. Turning curiously, he looked at it for a second or two. Was it Gippal or Rikku calling back? Shrugging, he walked back to the phone and picked it up._

"_Hello?"_

"_Praetor Baralai, were you looking for someone?" An unfamiliar voice asked at the other end._

"_I'm sorry, who is this?"_

"_That's not important, but tell me: Why were calling him?"_

"_Look, that's got nothing to do with you, whoever you are. What do you want?"_

_The voice laughed, "Oh, it has a lot to do with me, but listen; I won't have you interfere in this. You and your little Yevon-loving buddies can stay well clear. After all, we wouldn't want something unfortunate happening to you, too, Baralai."_

"_What do you mean 'me, too'? Have you done anything to Gippal?"_

"_Oh, just wait until tomorrow. I'm sure they'll tell you all about it. In fact, everyone will know about it. You need a catalyst to sir things up everyone once in a while. It keeps things interesting."_

"_What?"_

"_Elysium," the voice sneered. "Well, farewell, dear Praetor. Have a nice night."_

_The line cut off, and Baralai was left to stare at the phone. He attempted calling Gippal, Nooj, anyone else, but every time he tried, an automated voice told him that they were unavailable. Baralai walked home troubled, and stayed up late into the night worried. When he awoke to the news next morning, he couldn't help but think back to the phone call. He thought of telling the police, especially when Gippal was announced as the main subject, but something inside him wanted to keep quiet. He was distracted in his work, and he knew it, however the thought still bothered him. _

_The thought of how, the more he looked back on it, the more the accent was similar to that of Gippal's._

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"Damn, it's freezing! How come it's so cold all of a sudden?"

"I know! I've heard of winter coming early, but not in Besaid. This is ridiculous."

"Well, if you two are so cold, why don't you quit slacking and do some training? That'd warm you up quick enough."

"Ah, lay off, Beclem! I couple of hours rest won't kill me…"

"A couple of hours? And just where do you think you're going?"

"To Lulu and Wakka's. Guess who got stuck babysitting again?"

"Can't Yuna or someone else do it? Does it have to be you?"

"Nah, they're doing something in Luca and Yuna went with them. And you know it _always_ has to be me. Yuna'd give me the parental duty guilt trip if I didn't"

"Sensing a little bitterness there, Tidus."

"Hah, you could say that. It's not like I don't like spending time with the kids, but… ah, you know."

Beclem scowled, "Oh, if you must. But that doesn't mean you can skip training too, Botta. Go on, get going!"

"Slave driver…"

"See you guys later."

As he entered Lulu and Wakka's house, Tidus rubbed his hands and shivered. He was glad to get into the warmth, as he was freezing from being outside. The day itself wasn't that bad, but it was just that strong, cold wind that made things unpleasant. He moved into the kitchen to get a drink, spotting his children and Vidina in the living room, watching something on the sphere cast.

"Hey, what's up?" he called to them from kitchen.

"Not much." Vidina, the eldest child, replied. "There's something going on in Luca, though."

"Oh yeah?"

"There was a siege and some big hospital got set on fire. It's just like something you'd read in a book!"

"Cool. Is it a big fire?" Tidus asked, moving into the living room with his glass of milk.

"Daddy!" Lauren admonished, almost uncanny in her likeness to Yuna even at eight years old. "People could have got hurt, it's not cool!"

"Alright, I'm sorry." Tidus said with a grin, settling himself in a seat beside her and taking Drake into his arms. "It's not cool, is it guys?" He flashed a wink at the two boys.

"Nope!" They both chimed, with equal grins.

"Yeah, 'cause it's the hospital Uncle Gippal's at! He coulda got hurt, too!"

Tidus choked on his milk, "What? No way!"

"It is! Luca General Hospital! Mummy told me that's where he was!"

Tidus looked at the sphere cast in surprise. The presenter confirmed what his daughter had been telling him. He thought of Wakka, Lulu and Yuna. Although there was a very small chance anything had happened to them, he still worried. Things had been taking unexpected twists lately, so he could never tell.

He thought about Gippal. A part of him, the part that believed he killed Rikku, was glad the fire had happened. Glad there was a possibility he was dead, thought he deserved it. And yet there was the other part of him, who felt sad. That part knew that it was all just so unlikely. If Rikku and Gippal had been unhappy, he was sure he would have seen it. Anyone could have seen it. It didn't make any sense whatsoever, and yet the police where telling him it all fitted together perfectly. Yuna said she didn't believe it, but when the subject was brought up, he could see the hate in her eyes. She and Rikku had been so close, he could understand she needed someone to blame.

In the end, he just didn't know, and in the months that had passed since then, it was almost as if nothing had happened. How had they gone back to the same old routine so quickly? Maybe that was the only way, though, to get on with things and not think about what nobody wanted to think about. But still… the last image of Rikku he had seen; tired yet full of life. The last of Roxy; afraid, wanting to be saved. The helplessness he had felt. They, he could not forget. Reliving that night was unwelcome, yet seemingly necessary. Especially when things didn't add up.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

_Tidus sat on the floor of Lulu and Wakka's hallway, staring at their phone. Maybe it had been a glitch in the system. Maybe it had been someone else; maybe it hadn't happened at all. The emergency services had said they would get there right away, but what if they didn't get there in time? What if it was too late? He couldn't think of anyone but Rikku, and so didn't notice when Yuna and Lulu came up behind him._

"_Hey!" Yuna asked, touching his shoulder. "What's up?"_

_Tidus was speechless for a few seconds. "Rikku…" But how could he say it? "She…"_

"_Oh, you were calling her, right? Did she get my present?"_

"_Um… yeah, yeah, she did. But… there was a gun."_

"_A gun?" Lulu asked, giving Yuna a surprised look. "That's a bit odd for a present, Yuna."_

"_I didn't get her a gun! What are you talking about?"_

_Tidus took a deep breath, "When I was talking to her, she got a call and left the room, so I started to talk to Roxy. And when I was doing that, I heard a scream. Rikku's scream. And then the screen went blank and I heard gun shots and Roxy scream and… I just… What if they're dead, Yuna?"_

_Yuna said nothing, choosing instead to stare at him intensely. Eventually she said, "That's not funny."_

"_Am I laughing?"_

"_You're joking, right? Right?"_

"_Yuna…" Lulu muttered, taking Yuna's arm. She shrugged her off and slumped down to the floor beside her husband, only looking straight ahead._

_Lulu tried to be level headed about it, "What about Gippal? Did he…?"_

_Tidus shook his head. "I don't know, I didn't see him. I got here as soon as I could, but…"_

_The room was silent for a long time, until Lulu finally broke it, "I need to tell Wakka. If they're alive, they'll probably be taken to Luca. I'm going there." She left quietly, leaving Yuna and Tidus still sitting on the floor._

_There was another strained silence, until Yuna whispered, "I need to go."_

_Tidus gripped her hand, "I know. I'll be there."_

_Ten minutes later, Tidus tentatively went back into his house to check on Drake. The baby was sound asleep, safe in his bed. He sighed as he looked at his son, gripping the side of the cot to stop his own shaking. Gatta had promised to look after the children while Yuna and he went to Luca. He winced. The children… should he tell them what was going on? But how? They loved their Aunt Rikku, their Uncle Gippal, their Cousin Roxy… could he really put them through it? But at the same time, it would be cruel not to tell them. He just didn't know what to do…_

_Across the room, the Comsphere crackled and flashed, pulling Tidus out of his own thoughts. He walked over and looked down on it. Was what he saw real? He kicked the sphere, causing it to crash heavily against the wall. It spluttered more, and someone laughed at him. Tidus looked behind him, but no one was there. He looked back to the Comsphere. Was the laughter coming from it? He grabbed the sphere and held it to his ear, desperate to hear more. The laughing had stopped, but there was a strange dragging noise. That same dragging noise he had heard just after Roxy had been shot! _

_Tidus pulled the Comsphere back from his ear and gazed at it intently, willing its picture to work again. It was, it seemed, in vain, as when he did so, there was another splutter and the noise stopped completely. Tidus set it down. What was that? He shook his head; he didn't have time for this. He needed to hurry on and get to Luca. He was at the other side of the room, when the Comsphere spluttered into life for the final time before the signal died out altogether. There was a flash of picture; it swirled and swayed like an eidola._

"_Farewell, my dear Praetor…" A husky voice crackled. Tidus stood rooted to the spot. _

_Baralai?_

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Night was upon Kilika, and only a small light on the bedside table illuminated the face of Gippal below. A finger stroked his cheek roughly, leaving a red mark in its wake, but he did not wake. A smile floated to lips. There was a barely audible giggle. On the floor beside the bed, there was a woman, lying motionless. A tiny card was stuck on the bottom right corner of the open door; it read 'Jyu-on'. Eyes glanced over the sleeping Gippal, and then to the pitch black night outside.

"Soon."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

_It was a cold, blustery night, and Lucil, Commander of the Youth League forces, was all but ready to turn in for the night with a hot water bottle. There was only one more duty to attend to; checking up on Gippal, at the request of Mevyn Nooj. It had been quite a surprise when Nooj had, rather off-handedly, told her to go and check on him. She hadn't even known he was at Youth League Headquarters in the first place, and got the impression no one else knew about it. She knew she was likely the only one Nooj could trust with such a task, and so was happy enough to see to it._

_She entered a small, forgotten guest room in the 'attic' of the Headquarters. Sure enough, there was Gippal, fast asleep. She spotted a tray with an empty plate and glass on it sitting on a table beside the bed, and so went to take it away. When she moved beside him, Gippal seemed to stir in his sleep and gripped his single pillow tightly. She considered him for a minute. It was amazing to think, he was suspected of murder, and yet was sleeping so peacefully. Lucil had been determined to be neutral, like Nooj, until the case had been completely solved, but now… Clearly, Nooj had taken Gippal in because he thought his friend to be innocent. The whole scene did seem a little stage, but who knew? _

_There was the faintest of footsteps behind Lucil, but because of the eerie quiet that late nights usually held, she heard it clearly. Lucil froze momentarily, before spinning on the spot. There was no one there, but yet…_

"_Who is it?" She called quietly into the nothingness. The air had become heavy, she could sense someone there. "Who's there?"_

"_Dybbuk." A quiet voice hissed from above._

_She had no time to look up. As she fell, Lucil was helpless in the fact that she knew no one was around to hear her scream._


	11. Kalmia's Twilight

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have a Crescent for my Moon. Joy! Never again shall they part…

Author's Note: Urm… These are usually hard or easy to write. Today, Ciz finds it difficult. The title is derived from a line from the Gackt song, "Kalmia". 'The kalmias' twilight becomes hotter until they fade into each other...' Ciz explained what this meant to her a long time ago, elsewhere. Obviously, she'd prefer you got your own meaning from it, but if you really wanna know… just ask. A kalmia's a flower from an ivy bush. This chapter and chapter XIII were switched around… for no particular reason, really.

**XI. Kalmia's Twilight**

_It couldn't possibly get worse, right?_

DS Keota, cramped up in a small cupboard in Gippal's office with Lucinda, was having a spectacularly bad day. She had been annoyed, propositioned, outsmarted, gossiped at, treated like a paper boy, been the bearer of bad news and sent on a wild goose chase. To have to hide from her new employer with her new friend while she inadvertently overheard a conversation she didn't want to hear in the first place was just the icing on the cake. Keota was sure she knew what ZT was about to present to Hutuc; the photographs he had taken from the DCI's office. Although she wouldn't have been named, Hutuc wasn't stupid. He would realise that there was a police operative among his ranks, and with her mother's abnormally large mouth… She knew her time left at the Faction would be limited.

"No… it doesn't look like a forced entry." Hutuc replied, examining the book case. "But someone's definitely been in here in my absence. A book has been stolen."

"You can tell?" ZT asked, standing only a few metres away from the cupboard that held Keota and Lucinda.

"Yes. Gippal never uses this bookcase and there is a book missing on the middle row. It was full when I left this morning. Someone obviously didn't want it seen. If I had more knowledge of what books Gippal kept in it, we may have had a lead…"

"Well that, Hutuc, is where good old ZT comes in!" He had a grin plastered all over his face as he held up a set of photographs. Hutuc raised an eyebrow. "On my excursion to Luca, I couldn't help doing some, ahem, sightseeing. Care to take a look?"

Hutuc took the photos from ZT and examined them carefully. After a time he looked up. "You ran great risk to get these, I imagine? I will not question your methods, as your motives… they are redeeming enough."

ZT laughed, in a failed attempt to look modest, "Well, you know, just did my bit for the team, that's all."

Hutuc read through the information in the photographs again, "It seems like they wouldn't have enough evidence against Gippal for a case to stand up in court… but that doesn't mean some won't appear. It is a tough opponent we are dealing with, ZT. They are smart. Never let your guard down."

ZT nodded, "Yeah, but about the book… do you think it's the enemy who stole it? If you read those case notes, it mentions a police officer was sent to Djose to see if we had anything to hide…"

"Yes, it could be the police." Hutuc set the photographs down on Gippal's desk, but didn't take a seat. He preferred to pace up and down the room, as if Gippal himself was still sitting there. "I doubt our enemies would be careless enough to leave tracks such as this. It is also doubtful that they would even want one of the books on that bookcase…"

Very carefully, Hutuc pulled back Gippal's chair from its desk and then crouched down beneath the table. There were some clicking sounds and the sound of a door opening. Hutuc looked further downwards, but quickly pulled his head back up and stood up. ZT, who had been slyly shuffling his way across the room to try and see what Hutuc had been doing, quickly turned his head in a different direction as Hutuc walked towards him, shaking his head as more clicking sounds uttered from under the desk.

"No." Hutuc said to ZT bluntly, as if he had been asking a question. "No book with material of a _sensitive_ nature has been taken. It is then more likely that the Luca Police are as suspicious of us as ever. ZT, have you noticed anyone questionable hanging around? Anyone employed in the last six months?"

"Well, I…" Keota held her breath. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew that ZT knew. Lucinda beside her held a permanent surprised expression; she didn't know. ZT was about to expose her but, was he… hesitating? "Um, no, no one that I can think of. I've been quite busy lately, but I'll, ah, ask around. Definitely. Right away."

"ZT…" Hutuc was suspicious, and had every right to be. Keota was mystified. What was ZT doing? "You know that I do not appreciate you hiding things from me. I, who have helped you many times in the past, would like to think better of you."

"I-I'm not hiding anything! Really!"

"No," Hutuc took a threatening step towards ZT, "I think you are. What I cannot work out, however, is why. What, or should I say who, is so important that you keep things from your own father, Zyou?"

"Wh-?!" Lucinda exclaimed, quickly covering her mouth with her hands in horror. Through the crack in the door, Keota could see Hutuc was looking towards the very cupboard Lucinda and she where taking cover in. Behind him, a curious ZT looked glad to have a distraction. Hutuc took slow, agonising steps forward, until he came to rest, towering above the door of the closet. Beside her, Lucinda quivered.

_Oh, fuck._

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"Sir, welcome back!"

Nooj merely nodded in acknowledgement.

"Um…" Elma didn't know the best way to approach Nooj about the situation. Even at the rank of Major in the Youth League, talking to the Mevyn still made her nervous. Looking up at him, he was already losing interest. "Mevyn Nooj, I need to tell you something. I'm worried about Lucil."

"Lucil?" Nooj eyed her carefully, and Elma felt the full force of the infamous Nooj glare. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well, we were supposed to go out for breakfast in town this morning, but she didn't show up. You know Lucil, she'd never miss an appointment, and she's never late. I waited a long time before coming back up to HQ. I asked around and no one has seen her since last night. It's weird… like she just vanished!"

Nooj paused and looked around. Elma had been waiting for Nooj in his office so no one, not even Leblanc, was around. She thought he was going to say something, but instead Nooj set the bag he had been carrying on his desk and paused to read something. Elma shifted uncomfortably.

"I think I know where she is." Nooj said, almost out of the blue. Elma was taken back, but had no time to express it, as no sooner had he said it than he was out the door.

"Mevyn Nooj! Wait!"

A few minutes later, and Elma had followed Nooj to one of the most remote parts of Youth League Head Quarters. They were in what the members called the 'attic'; it was only used for storage. What in Spira would Lucil be doing up here? They arrived at the end of the very last corridor on the top floor, and Elma was surprised to see a door there. For easier accessibility, most of the rooms up where they where had no door. Nooj tried the door handle; it was unlocked. He looked worried as he entered.

When Elma looked in the room was drastically bright in comparison to the gloomy corridors they had just been in. It was a bright day, and the windows had no curtains. Nooj hurried over to beside a bed in the centre of the room. On the bed, Elma saw a figure, but it had been draped in black cloth, as if it where a dead body. A possible dead body on the bed, however, would be the least of her worries. Coming to stand behind Nooj, Elma could finally see what he was doing; Nooj was holding a lifeless Lucil, shaking her as if trying to wake her.

Elma rushed to her side, "She… I think she's still breathing!"

Nooj nodded, "She needs a doctor. Take care of her a second, I have to check something."

He stood up and touched the black sheet on the bed lightly. After a pause, Nooj pulled them back quickly, and Elma couldn't believe her eyes. Her corpse was none other than Gippal. Nooj put his hand on Gippal's wrist to check for a pulse and then nodded after a second.

"Neither of them are dead, that's something." He muttered to himself. "But we need to get them to Dr. Aube as soon as possible."

Elma nodded, "But how are we going to carry both of them down there with just the two of us?"

Nooj shook his head curtly, "We can't carry Gippal through all of Kilika, no one can know he's here. Similarly, people would get suspicious if we carried Lucil out. No, I'll just have to get him to come up here. In the mean time, Elma?"

"Y-yes Sir!"

"I want you to call the Luca Police Department and ask for DCI Macaro. Tell him we have a situation here."

Cradling Lucil in one arm, Elma grabbed the phone that lay on a chair in front of her and dialled. She hoped they had reached Lucil in time.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"Lady Yuna, this is a surprise. I was not expecting you. It's a pleasant surprise, of course."

"Oh, I hope you're not busy, Baralai. We were just in Bevelle for the day and thought why not?"

Yuna smiled as she walked into Baralai's home on the outskirts of Bevelle, Tidus in tow. He gave a sort of grunt in Baralai's direction and he got a cock of the head in return; Yuna guessed it was supposed to be a greeting of sorts. She really didn't understand this male non-verbal communication, but they all did it anyway. Nevertheless, with everything that had gone on, Yuna thought it best to get some time alone with him. She couldn't, however, resist calling on Baralai. She hadn't heard from him in a long time, which was odd. He was usually good at keeping in touch, but she supposed he had just been very busy.

"Oh no, not at all. You caught me on a day off." Baralai smiled nervously, strategically standing in front of a haphazard pile of papers on his coffee table. Yuna couldn't help but smile at his embarrassment. She knew Baralai liked to keep things tidy and organised, and could image his dread at being caught with something so messy. "Please, take a seat."

"Thanks." Yuna and Tidus took seats on a blue sofa in Baralai's living room, and he used the time to grab the papers and get them out of sight. "So, how have you been? Quite busy, I'd imagine, with all those trade meetings coming up?"

"Oh, yes, it is quite… rushed." Baralai took a seat on a matching arm chair that sat next to the sofa. Yuna could see him eyeing a half finished tub of strawberry ice cream sitting on his coffee table but, Baralai being Baralai, he was not taking it so he would not disrupt their conversation. "There's so much to organise, especially since they're being held in Bevelle this year."

"If it's so busy, why aren't you at work?" Tidus interjected. "Skiving, are we?"

"Tidus!" Yuna hissed, elbowing him.

"What, I'm just asking?" He replied, trying his best to feign innocence.

"I'm not here of my own free will, you know." Baralai said, frowning at him. "I've been feeling a little under the weather recently and my advisors insisted I stay home until I'm better. I know they want me to be rested for the conference, but really, I don't like not being in charge of the whole thing."

"Don't trust them, huh?" Tidus said, grinning.

"No, it's not that, I just… well, you know, it doesn't matter." Yuna saw Baralai eyeing the ice cream again. It was no secret that Baralai, Praetor of New Yevon, had a weakness for strawberry ice cream. "So, how are things in Besaid? It will be Lauren's ninth birthday soon, won't it?"

"Yeah, in two weeks. Right, Tidus?"

"Huh, what? Oh, yeah, yeah. It's brilliant, I love it." Yuna glared at him, who she knew had not been paying attention, but had his eyes fixed on Baralai's ice cream.

Baralai smiled, "Yes, I imagine so… oh, excuse me."

From across the room, Baralai's phone had begun to ring. He got up and crossed the room to get it, and Yuna took the time to scold Tidus away from swiping the ice cream.

"_Hello?"_

"_Praetor Baralai, so nice to speak to you again." It was the voice from before. Baralai glanced up at Tidus and Yuna, who seemed preoccupied enough._

"_What do you want?"_

_The voice laughed, as it had done before, "Oh, I think we're past that, don't you? And here I was, duly informing you of something I thought you might want know."_

"_And what might that be?"_

"_Oh, well if you're going to give me that tone, I suppose I'll just let Nooj tell you."_

"_Nooj? What, Gippal? What have you done now?"_

"_Nothing much… yet." The voice replied, smugly._

"_You stay away from him and Nooj! Look, I don't know who you are, but… why are you doing this?"_

"_Dear, dear, Praetor, we do have a bad memory, don't we? I told you before, my goal for Spira is Elysium."_

"_What does that have to do with me, or Gippal, or anyone?"_

"_Oh, a lot. But don't worry; I understand you were feeling a little left out. Gippal got a visit, Paine got a visit, Nooj got a visit, but you didn't. Maybe I should stop by at your house right now. I imagine your escorts are away, so we won't be interrupted."_

"_Why can't you leave me alone?" Baralai shouted down the phone, oblivious that Tidus and Yuna had now stopped talking to follow his conversation._

_The voice cackled at him, taunting. "Now, now, Praetor, there's no need to raise our voice, hmm? Just because you could have prevented a few deaths doesn't mean you have to take it out on others."_

"_What? Just stay away from me! And stop calling, you're sick!"_

Baralai slammed the phone down, and ran his hands through his hair. What did that person mean, he 'could have prevented deaths'? Who's, Rikku and Roxy's? But how could he have, he hadn't been told of that untold until the morning after it had happened? And what was that about paying him a visit; what had happened that Nooj would call him? He leaned on the wall, trying to make sense of it all. He should have told the police about the phone calls. It could have helped. But then, the voicehe said that ithe had visited his friends. Visited Paine…

"Baralai?" Yuna asked tentatively, now standing behind him. He had forgotten completely about Tidus and Yuna. What had they heard? "Is everything alright?"

"Lady Yuna, I'm sorry, but I must ask you to leave. I have some business to attend to." He had to go and see Paine. If it was true she had been visited by that person…

"Baralai, I know there's something wrong." Yuna grabbed his arm to stop him. "Who was that?"

Baralai shook his head as he took a coat from the hallway, brushing Yuna off. "Please, Yuna, just go. I'll be fine, there's just someone I really need to see. I'm sorry."

Baralai opened the door, ignoring Yuna's protests, and was about to leave when he heard Tidus finally speak.

"Farewell, dear Praetor." It was an imitation of the voice on the phone.

Baralai stopped dead and turned to face him, his blood running cold. The way Tidus was looking at him could only confirm that he knew. As the two were lost in each other's gaze, Yuna was left in the middle, not knowing anything.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was twilight, and DS Keota was walking down a short corridor in Workers' Accommodation in a towel to her room, having just got out of the shower. She sighed. The past few days had been hard. At every corner she expected to find Hutuc or ZT pointing a gun in her face and shouting traitor. It was unnerving. DCI Macaro had wanted to pull her from the mission there and then, but Keota insisted on staying on. She thought she might be able to get some more information out of the Faction. 'The enemy' that wasn't the police; whoever that was, the Machine Faction had definitely kept quiet about it. Also strange to her was Lucinda's reaction to finding out that ZT was Hutuc's son. Truth be told she hadn't been aware of it herself, but she didn't understand why she was so shocked about it. Was it so bad a secret that Hutuc had a son? She knew nothing of the situation, so thought it best to forget about it.

However, the issue would not go away so easily. As Keota approached her room, the door was ajar. Never one to think positively in these situations, she chose to assume the worst. Pushing the door open, she could see no one inside. Nothing seemed to have been moved, as in a search, either. Perhaps it was the wind. Unfortunately, the door closed itself, and she didn't feel like she was going to be so lucky.

"Keota." Turning, she saw ZT standing behind her door. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help but feel slightly violated.

"ZT, what are you doing in here? Came to perve on me, did you?" She suddenly wished the towel she was covered in was larger.

"No," ZT replied indignantly, crossing his arms. "I didn't expect you to be in nothing but your birthday suit."

"What do you want?" She snapped, although she knew full well what he wanted.

"I think you know." He closed the door and stood in front of it, as if imprisoning her in the small room. She only wished her roommate, Sayta, was there to see what was gone on, but she was still on shift. "You delivered those photos to me after all."

"Photos? Oh yes, your super ninja abilities, how could I forget?"

"Yeah, them." Luckily for her, ZT had no idea that Lucinda knew about them either. Only the news of a huge explosion at Luca General Hospital a few days ago had saved them from being discovered.

"So… what about them?" Keota sat down on her bed, wrapping the duvet from it around herself.

"As I'm sure you know, those photographs say we have a spy from the police in the Machine Faction. Yes, you know all about that, don't you?"

Keota gave him her best glare, all the while wondering why ZT was here alone. Why hadn't he brought along Hutuc so they could do some much needed father-son bonding over her interrogation? ZT nodded to himself and then, from a pocket inside his trademark green and tan bomber jacket, he brought out another photograph. It looked as if it had been part of the same set that he had shown Hutuc, and yet… it was folded into many pieces, as if it had been hidden by ZT. When he held it up, Keota saw it was a black and white photograph, but yet taken quite recently. She recognized it. A photo of a photo. A photo of a photo of her, grinning alongside Jackson, Leda and Carter under a huge 'Luca Police Go!' banner, in uniform, no less.

_That stupid camping trip…_

At that moment, what bothered Keota was not that she had been discovered. What bothered her was why they were both here, in her room, keeping the fact that ought to be exposed secret.Or even


	12. Sepia Coloured Memories

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have Bono's signature. Well, it's in my house. That counts…

Author's Note: Well, alright, carrying on Ciz's AN trend of late, yes, you guessed it; this chapter's name was inspired by a Gackt song! The shock! Yes, well, it's from 'Uncertain Memories'. Fitting for Gippal, don't you think? Yes, that does indicate it is a Gippal-based chapter (sort of). Much as Ciz loves Baralai and his ice cream… he is not the main character. Gippal is (But it's not like he's not in it completely, I need him for that damn plot of mine). Oh dear, now Ciz knows one day she's going to write a one shot about Baralai and strawberry ice cream. Be afraid, kids, be very afraid. Ironic how much photographs turn up in this, a written work…

**XII. Sepia Coloured Memories**

"No, he's not at home. No, I already called there, check for yourselves… Well, if Baralai isn't there, where is he? It's important I speak with him. Yes, I suggest you do 'look into it'." Nooj put the phone down more than lightly. Gippal had a headache.

"You can't reach the Praetor? Odd…," said a deep, unfamiliar man's voice from somewhere above Gippal's head. He complained voicelessly to himself; did they really have to talk so loudly? "I assume he knows about him, then?"

"Yes. Before yesterday, it was supposedly only Baralai and I that knew. However, it seems someone else found out."

"Yes," said the other man, sounding as if he was wringing something out, "Gippal would have been in no condition to inflict Commander Lucil's injuries. I'm quite sure that it was no normal man that did it, as well, the wounds are too bizarre…"

"I thought as much…" Nooj's voice seemed to be at Gippal's right side, "Will he be alright, then?"

"Oh yes, he'll be just fine once I…"

The man was interrupted by Gippal's yell. To have had your sore, albeit warm and otherwise settled, forehead unexpectedly attacked by something extremely cold and wet, he was sure, would invoke the same reaction in most people. He had lunged forward and thrust his eye open, only to collapse back down on his pillow moments later, cursing and covering his eyes with his arms. Getting up too quickly and opening your eye to light when you had just woken up from an entire day's sleep, Gippal decided, was not a good idea.

"… wake him." The man finished, clearly amused. Gippal groaned and he felt dizzy. He hadn't really got a good look at the man when he had had his eyes open, only a faint, fuzzy blur of a shape.

"How do you feel?" Nooj asked, also sounding entertained.

Gippal rose, slowly this time, and lowered an arm slightly so he could peer at Nooj, "Was I drunk last night, because I feel like I have the worst hangover ever?"

"Definitely not." The man on his left exclaimed, trying again to advance the ice pack towards Gippal's head.

"Then what's up? Since when did I get so popular?" He said, dodging the man, although instantly regretting it as the swift head movement made him feel worse.

"What's up," Nooj replied, "is that it's not safe for you to be here anymore. You had a visitor in the night, and not a particularly nice one, either."

"Another mysterious stranger?" Gippal thought aloud, used enough now to the light to lower his arms and look at Nooj directly.

"Another? This has happened before?"

"Yeah," Gippal rubbed his temples, groaning. He felt like he had a cold. "Do you know how weird it is having some strange person hover over you when you're sleeping? They didn't do anything, just stood there and then talked to my nurse. Something about an entourage…"

"An entourage?" Nooj looked slightly relieved. "It was probably just Baralai."

"Baralai?" Gippal blinked. Come to think of it, that person did sound like Baralai. "Damn, why didn't I think of that?"

"Well, in any case you need some more rest, Gippal." The man to the left said, finally catching him with the ice pack and gently pressing him back down onto the bed. "I'm Doctor Aube; I guess I'll be looking after you for a while."

While grumbling about the huge amount of cold spread across his head, Gippal caught sight of another bed near his. He couldn't really see who was on it, but he definitely knew it had not been there when he went to sleep. He tried getting up again to see it better, but the doctor wouldn't allow it.

"That's Lucil," Nooj said, catching Gippal staring.

"What happened to her?"

"Your very pleasant visitor." Nooj replied, looking at Lucil.

Gippal was about to ask what was wrong with her, when they were interrupted by a young woman entering the room.

"Mevyn Nooj, your meeting is starting soon." She said, walking over to him and saluting. "You'd better get down there, they'll be wondering where you are."

"Yes, your right, Elma, I should be away. Are those police officers here yet?"

"I'm not sure," Elma looked out the window thoughtfully. "They said their ferry over had been delayed, but they'll most likely get here soon. I've asked Yaibil to call me when they get here. He doesn't know why, though."

"Very well," Nooj was at the door now, hand on the door knob. "Stay here with Doctor Aube in the meantime."

"Sir!"

"Elma?" Doctor Aube asked when Nooj had left. "Keep an eye on Gippal, would you, I need to check on Lucil."

"Sure." Elma replied, taking the ice pack from the doctor and sitting on the chair next to Gippal's bed.

Gippal rubbed his head were the ice pack had been, trying to warm it up, "Have we met before?"

Elma shrugged, "A few times, I think, but only at official functions."

"Oh," he said. There was a silence. Elma was rummaging for something in a pocket, and Gippal closed his eye. Somehow he felt more tired than he had done before he went to sleep.

"Do you… Have you ever heard of 'Jyu-on'?" Elma whispered, breaking the silence. Gippal sighed and opened his eye again.

"Jyu-on?" Gippal replied in a whisper, although he wasn't quite sure why. "What's that? A person, a place…"

"I was hoping you could tell me…" Elma muttered, looking warily up at Doctor Aube.

"Why's that?" He asked, closing his eye and intending on her getting the hint he wanted to go to sleep.

"Your visitor left this." Elma took a small white card out of her pocket; it had the word 'Jyu-on' written on it in calligraphic writing. Seeing it written down, Gippal found it to look familiar, but couldn't seem to picture where he had seen it before. "You look like you recognise it."

"Well, sort of. I can't think of where I've seen that before, but… I do remember seeing something like it once."

Elma made a small sound of surprise, as if she hadn't actually been expecting Gippal to know anything about it.

"So, is it the name of a group, or a book, or…?"

Gippal shrugged and rolled over onto his right side, "I dunno. Just looks familiar, that's all."

"Oh yeah, and how do I know you're not lying to me? What is 'Jyu-on' really?" Elma crossed her arms and glared at him. "You know, don't you?"

"No," Gippal mumbled irritably. What did a guy have to do around here to get some peace? "Look, just give it to the police and let them do the leg work for you. There's no point asking someone who doesn't know."

"I'm sure…" Elma said suspiciously. "Anyway, the police don't really need to find out about it, huh? It's pretty insignificant, after all. I was just curious…"

"What, that's evidence, isn't it? You can't just take it…"

"I can do what I want, okay? Besides, they don't need this to be convinced, do they?"

"I don't really think…"

Gippal was interrupted by the phone on Elma's lap ringing.

"Alright, thanks Yaibil, I'm coming now." Elma got up to leave.

"Hey!" Gippal made to get up and follow her, but he was swooped in on by Dr. Aube, who told him off rather than listen to his protests.

Gippal threw his head down on his pillow in a sulk, only to have it connect with something that was the complete opposite. It was hard and made his head ache worse than it already had been doing. While Dr. Aube was occupied, Gippal spied a glance under his pillow. A small, black photo album was there, and he recognised it as the one he had lost on a trip to Bevelle a while ago. Choosing to ignore how it got there, Gippal propped himself up on the headboard and opened it, smiling. The photographs in it were so old, they where in sepia.

_Wait, didn't these photos used to be in colour?_

Gippal stopped to stare at a picture of Baralai, Paine and himself which had been taken by Nooj on the SS Wino. They had definitely used to be in colour, but now… they looked so old, like they were taken a long time ago. Well, he supposed, they had been taken quite a few years ago now, but it wasn't that long ago.

He looked at Baralai and Paine. Baralai didn't look much different then than he did now, apart from his hair being slightly longer, and he hadn't really changed personality-wise either, apart from being a little more open. Paine, however, was a different story. In the picture, her face had blurred, and he couldn't really see her properly, but he still knew it was Paine from her stance. It was sort of like that in real life, he thought. Paine called often enough, occasionally even sending letters, but he hadn't seen her in the flesh for a full two years. It was as if he couldn't even remember what she looked like anymore, but Baralai and Yuna, who had seen her, said that she hadn't really gone through a drastic transformation.

"I'm going to look for something", she had said the last time they had met in person, at the Khatvahna two years ago. "Something important. So I'll see you around". She hadn't mentioned what it was, but Baralai had said he got the impression she was looking for some family members. Gippal wondered if she had ever found them.

Gippal flicked through the rest of the album, not noticing Dr. Aube look at some of them on his way past. When he got to the end of the album, he noticed a singed piece of paper lodged into the back cover. Pulling it off and opening it up, Gippal found it was the strange ransom letter from the hospital. Although burnt in places and being marked by smoke, the letter was still largely intact and legible. He couldn't really help wondering who had put it, and indeed the album, there. It was freaky… Although, hadn't Nooj said he had had a visitor? There was a large possibility that it was the same person. Elma had mentioned something left by that person, that 'Jyu-on' thing. Perhaps it was their name…

Breaking Gippal away from his thoughts was the door opening dramatically. Gippal snapped the album in surprise and looked up. Two police officers strode in, one he recognised as the one who had broken the news to him, and the other, younger officer he did not know. His first instinct was, puzzling enough, to hide the album and letter, but thought against it. Hiding stuff from the police and trying to look innocent didn't really fit together. Dr. Aube pulled up a second chair for the younger officer, and then handed Gippal a mug. As the two officers settled themselves, Gippal peered into it.

"What is it?" He asked suspiciously.

"Medicine." Dr Aube said with a smile. He looked to Macaro, "Make sure he takes it, will you? I'll be leaving you in peace."

Macaro nodded, and he and the younger officer stared at Gippal as the doctor left, willing him to drink it. Gippal sniffed the cup and frowned; it smelt funny. Taking a deep breath, he gulped it all down in one, only to find that although it smelled disgusting, it tasted like strawberries. He set the cup down on the table on his left with a sigh, and then looked back to the police. The younger officer seemed to have a permanent glare in place.

Macaro coughed, signalling he was about to speak, "Mr. Okinoko, this is TDC Carter; he will be helping me conduct an interview with you about what happened last night."

"Last night?" Gippal asked, feeling a little disconcerted as Carter was still glaring at him. "You mean what happened to Lucil? Well, I'll tell you now, I don't know much about it. I was asleep through the whole thing."

"Oh…" Macaro said, frowning. "So you don't know anything about it, then?"

Gippal shrugged, "Well, only what Nooj's told me. Oh, and Elma said something about my 'visitor' leaving a card that said 'Jyu-on' on it."

"A card?" Asked Carter, who spoke for the first time. "Nooj never said anything about finding a card."

"Well, that's the thing; I don't think he does know about it. Elma seemed pretty secretive about it, and she… told me not to tell you about it."

"Ha!" Carter exclaimed, "Suspicious much?"

"Quite." said Macaro. "But who is this Elma?"

"Hey, was it Major Elma that showed you guys up here?" Gippal asked, remembering her saying something about it.

Macaro nodded, "Yes, it was. But why would she hide it?"

"I dunno. I think she and Lucil were friends, though. That might have something to do with it."

"It could…" Carter conceded, "Or you could just be making the whole thing up."

Macaro frowned at him, "In any case, thank you for telling us, we'll look into it. Now, you really don't remember anything about that night at all?"

Gippal shook his head. He debated whether or not to mention the album… but he didn't want to drag Baralai into it.

"Are you hiding something?" Carter asked, leaning forward to stare at Gippal, who leant backwards. "What was that book you were reading when we came in?"

"This?" Gippal asked, holding it up and trying to sound innocent. "Oh, I found it under my pillow just there now. It definitely wasn't there when I went to sleep, so… I think that whoever was here put it there."

"Yeah, but what is it?" Carter pressed on.

"It's a photo album." Gippal said, opening it and flicking through it quickly before their eyes for proof. "I thought I left it at Baralai's place ages ago, but… I guess not, if it's here. And there was… Um, I think whoever was here might have stolen it from Baralai."

Macaro peered over at him, much in the same way Carter had done, "'And there was'?"

Gippal couldn't help but blush, "U-um, it had a letter in it. This letter I found under my pillow at the hospital." Might as well go the whole way now, Gippal thought, pulling out the letter and handing it to Macaro.

"Well, you never mentioned it before!" Carter said, trying to frown at him disapprovingly like Macaro.

Gippal met his stare coldly, "Well, I had other things on my mind during that last interview."

"Whatever." Carter muttered.

"This is very interesting." Macaro had finished the letter and passed it to Carter. "I'd like to take it back with me for evidence."

Gippal shrugged, "Go ahead. I've read it that many times I know it off by heart."

Macaro nodded, "There's not much else we can do at this point. We can't conduct a proper interview until you're fit enough to be brought for to the station, so I need to discuss where you will stay with Mevyn Nooj. Wherever that may be, Carter and I will escort you there, so we will be staying at the Youth League until then."

"Yeah, so don't try to pull a fast one!" Carter hissed at him. Gippal thought he could almost laugh in exasperation; he wasn't really in the position to be going anywhere.

From the bed across the room, the unconscious Lucil stirred in her sleep.

"We'd best call the doctor back." Said Macaro.

As Carter and he went to leave, Gippal asked, "Um, the photo album, do you need to take it, too?"

"Yes, it's all a part of evidence, I'm afraid." Macaro replied. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason, I just haven't seen those photographs for a long time." Gippal muttered, looking away awkwardly. "They even used to be in colour."

"Why aren't they anymore?" Asked Carter, who got a shrug from Gippal. "I'll ask Zach about it."

"Yes, we'll have to look into that, too." Macaro walked back over to retrieve the album from Gippal. "The album could have fingerprints on it."

Gippal nodded, subdued, but stopped the officers once again as they tried to leave. "Um, Detective?"

"Yes, Gippal?"

"Uh… could you… would you mind… ah, talking to Baralai? You know, tell him what happened?"

Macaro raised an eyebrow, "The Praetor? I'd imagine Mevyn Nooj has informed him by now."

Gippal shook his head, "Nooj couldn't reach him, and New Yevon said that he wasn't at the temple…"

"He could just have been in the shower or something." Said Carter, looking on the whole entirely unsympathetic.

"Yeah, but…" Gippal shook his head. "That photo album, I left it at Baralai's place. Whoever attacked Lucil had to have gone to his house to get it, right? And now, no one knows where Baralai is and… I have a bad feeling about it, like something's happened."

Macaro considered him for a moment, "I suppose we could contact New Yevon, but… I'll talk with the Mevyn about it first." Lucil stirred again in her sleep, louder this time. "We should get going."

Gippal nodded and lay down again, willing the horrible sinking feeling in his stomach to just disappear. Rikku… Roxy… and now Baralai might be… It was as if someone was going through a list of the people he held dear, picking them off one by one, as a way of slow torture. He shivered. Assuming it was all to get to him. Maybe, whoever it was that had written the note, attacked Lucil… maybe he was just an insignificant pawn in their game. How could he know?

And then an answer hit him…

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was an undeterminable time between when Gippal found his answer and when he lost it to sleep. Whatever time it had been since that awakening feeling, it didn't seem to matter, now. All he could see in front of him where endless blue skies, and all he could hear where the crashing of waves. In that endless time, as a few Spira Gulls flew overhead, the question didn't even seem worth remembering. It was a perfect moment, to lay there and think of the quiet and gentleness of nature. And so, things that ought to be remembered were lost to it, but Gippal didn't really mind.

That time, however, changed unexpectedly. He had gotten up, to look at his reflection in the sea below, but when he got there, he could not see his own face. The rippling water distorted it, so that sometimes he could see the expression he guessed he had been wearing up until point; curious and calm. At other times, the water moulded his face into something grotesque; he couldn't believe the face was his own, as its striking, hateful features where a complete contrast to the other face, and yet the similarities where too large to ignore. After this had happened a few times, he couldn't bare to look at it any longer, and so looked to the city behind him.

The city he recognised as Luca. The hustle and bustle of the crowds out on the main walkway, full of eager blitzers, excited children and exasperated parents, where something unique to the town. He was out on an unused dock, and there was no one else there. Everyone seemed to be hurrying in the direction of the stadium. Except… that woman over there! There was a grey haired woman a dock over from him, staring as he had been at the sea. She looked like a familiar face, so Gippal decided to approach her.

As he travelled through the Luca crowds, no one gave him a second glance. It was an odd experience for Gippal, who was usually recognised everywhere he went, but he preferred to be anonymous on this occasion. She seemed not to notice him as he approached, but instantly turned around as soon as he was directly behind her.

"What do you want?"

Gippal chuckled to himself, "Paine, it's been a long time."

Paine frowned at him, "Am I supposed to know you? You know seem to know me."

"What?" Gippal still couldn't help giggling. "Don't tell me you forgot already! It's only been two years!"

Paine crossed her arms and glared, "Look, girl, I don't have time for this. I'm pretty sure I don't know you."

Girl? Thought Gippal, mystified. Paine went back to looking at her reflection in the sea. When Gippal looked at his own, he did not see himself, but indeed a woman. As with his own, he couldn't see the face clearly, but the image of his own feminine figure, long blonde hair and pink dress was enough to make him worried. No wonder Paine didn't recognise him.

"Well, even if you don't remember," He said, wanting to take advantage of this bizarre opportunity. "Tell me, did you find what you were looking for?"

For a long time, Paine said nothing and Gippal didn't push her. She never did like talking about these sorts of things.

"I was just about to give up my search." She said finally, not lifting her gaze from the waves. "Sometimes when you look for something you think you want, you end up finding a whole lot of things you would be better off not knowing. Some things are better left to our imaginations; they're usually much kinder than the reality."

"I see." Gippal didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell if Paine was happy or sad about this. Knowing Paine, she was probably somewhere in the middle.

"I would have given up sooner, but a friend of mine's in trouble. I didn't know how to react, so I just kept searching for that which I wanted." Paine finally looked up at him. "I didn't want to face what was happening in the rest of the world, so I just hid in my own. But I realise now… that was foolish. Your reality doesn't go away just because you want it to."

"I know the feeling." Gippal muttered. He supposed he'd been doing the same; anything to try and avoid the question. Anything to try and prevent himself from finding the answer. They had different lives, but ended up making the same mistakes, and they both knew they wouldn't be the first or last to do so. For all its uncertainty, life could have its predictability.

Gippal stood there, with Paine, for another incalculable time, watching the waves and the reflections of all around. Then, something in the back of his mind felt a pang of familiarity behind him. Turning around to face the crowd, he could see nothing that seemed friendly at first. However, slowly a figure began to become clear through the haze of people. Another grey haired individual. Eventually, Baralai's static, impassive face emerged from the crowd. He slowly took one step onto the dock, and in an instant, the entire atmosphere changed.

While before the pier had been quiet, its only sound coming from the sea, suddenly the loud, cheering voice of the assembled people could be heard. While before, people had not even noticed that they existed, suddenly they were giving them brief, half-interested glances as they walked by.

"Paine!" Baralai shouted, running towards them and looking distressed. Paine stood up quickly and stared at Gippal with fear.

"Gippal…"

When Gippal looked up, he saw Nooj by the side of his bed, gently nudging him awake.


	13. The Ghost in My Room

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have the Complete Box. Super Christmas aroma lamp, here I come!

Author's Note: Today's title is derived from a song by WHO, dear readers? Shock, surprise, it ain't Gackt! No. Once upon a time there was "Rainbow" (Not the cheesy kids show…), and they had a niji. There was also a ghost in their room. It was cool. Hence, a name for this chapter, because Ciz feels like it. One day she's going to get sued for this.

**XIII. The Ghost in My Room**

"Hazu…"

DS Meva looked around. Among the ethereal blue glow of ice and suspended water, there sat a small blonde girl in a pink dress. She was quite young looking, Al Bhed and strangely familiar. All was quiet and the little girl, sitting on an upside down statue of Lady Yunalesca, simply smiled at her. Meva looked down, and realised she was standing on the ceiling of the large room. Below her feet was a beautiful stained glass window of an aeon, although she couldn't say which one. The glass looked as if it would shatter with the slightest of touches, and yet it allowed her to stand on it. There was swirling water below the window, and further than that was a distant yet bright light.

The girl laughed, "You're looking at the right thing, but it's the wrong place."

Meva snapped out of her trance at the girl's words, "I'm sorry? Looking at what?"

"Think, what have you been looking at all this time? What question have you wanted answered for so long? The answer is so close to your eyes that you keep looking past it when you try to see."

"Is this work or… more personal?"

The little girl laughed again, swinging her legs casually, "You don't think your work has become your personal life lately? No, but, it's a little bit of both. You know your answer is there, but you keep missing it, so you feel like you're going around in circles. You're frustrated, but can't let yourself give up. Isn't that right?"

Meva could say nothing. Wasn't the young girl right? The case, Jackson… it was all just one big cycle of repetition. Repetition, however, was something that Meva liked. With repetition you usually got continuity, which in turn usually gave stability. Wasn't stability something everyone wanted? Stability was nice, but it was always hard to suppress the small voice that longed for unpredictability, volatility, danger… A cold wind blew as a small crack appeared in the stained glass. Meva didn't notice it.

"You've got the right person, but not for the right reasons. If you detach yourself from it, softly close your eyes; when you look back, maybe you'll see things differently."

"Are you my subconscious telling me I need a holiday?"

The little girl jumped from the statue to land on the window Meva was on, "Not quite, but it's something you could do. If it would give you a fresh perspective, help you see the truth; that would make me happy."

"If you're not my subconscious, then who are you?" The cracks in the glass were spreading quickly now, but Meva still did not notice them. "For me to be here, this has got to be a dream, right? So who are you, that you can see my dreams?"

The girl tucked a lock of hair behind her ear nonchalantly, all the while staring at the glass window, "We never really met. I didn't know you and you didn't know me, but… You've met Him, and my voice only reaches you. So, please, I want you to help me. I need to make things right, but I can't do a thing on my own."

Meva looked downwards, not knowing how to respond. When she did, she saw the now huge cracks and felt the glass stir. It would give way any second now, but what would happen?

"Don't worry. Even if you can't say it now, I'll catch you. Just think about it."

"Catch me?" Meva asked, but she never had the time to hear the girl's answer, as the glass collapsed and she fell through. She couldn't feel the water itself, but the cold shock was enough. The flashes of blue, the suffocating rushing noise, similar to that of a large waterfall, in her ears. She pulled herself upwards, feeling like she had just been slapped across the face, and she was staring at the image of herself. She was back in her room, alarm clock ringing, gazing at the mirror that hung on her wardrobe.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

DI Leda shivered as she pulled the collar of her long, black, fur-lined coat higher up her neck, bracing herself against the cold wind of a late autumn afternoon in Luca. She had expected such wind, and so had tied her long hair back into a neat ponytail, but couldn't help curse Luca's exposed position to the elements. Although the sun shined bright, as always, the wind was piercing and fierce, conjuring large waves that sprayed up onto the promenade. Leda kept in as close as she could to the wall, trying to avoid getting wet, but was none the less getting covered in a thin layer of salt water as she made her way across the docks. Fresh air was nice, but she would, at that moment, have much preferably been in her cosy, centrally heated, wind proof office.

The scant clouds above drifted along nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to the police officer being hastily pushed along below. Leda briefly wondered why she had not chosen somewhere indoors for her meeting, as she normally would have, but then remembered. On a day like today, there would be far too many people indoors and thus far too many people to overhear what would hopefully be disclosed. To the apparent surprise of the public, the Luca Police Criminal Investigation Department worked on cases other than that of Gippal Okinoko's. Leda had arranged to meet an informant at the No. 6 Dock at 4.30 pm. The informant, who she called 'Tim' and who called himself 'anonymous', was always late, so although she had severely told him to be there at 4 o'clock on the dot, she allowed herself to leave later.

When she arrived at No. 6 Dock it was, predictably, deserted. Sighing, Leda flicked some red hair behind her ears and walked over to the most likely looking crate. 'Tim' was supposedly going to give her information on a pending drug shipment from Kilika; the cargo mainly being Flan tentacles. To most, the mere mention of Flan tentacles being a narcotic would result in whoever suggested it being laughed at. In reality, when mixed with seeds from the Grats that lurked in the island's jungle, its effects where highly damaging and soporific. As long as people didn't believe where it actually came from, the drug trade would only thrive in Luca, much to the annoyance of the Luca Police, who had to run around clearing up the mess.

Save for the occasional shuffle of the feet, Leda stood stationary in the cold for a good 20 minutes, before allowing herself a hiss of impatience and a glare at her watch. Late, 'Tim' usually was, but not this late. Rubbing hands encased in cherry red gloves to match her hair, Leda decided to have a little dander around the dock to keep her warm. Hugging herself tightly against the push of the wind, she walked along down the dock, but only as close as she dared to the edge, lest she lose the shelter the tall piles of storage crates gave her against the raging sea.

It was, leaning against one of said crates, that Leda noticed a piece of red rope that had snagged on the edge of the dock. She would have ignored it, had it not been that her curiosity in boredom had led her to wonder why this piece was red, when all of that hanging on a metal pole above was light blue. She bent down and tried to grasp the cord, only for it to slip out of her hand due to the moisture it had absorbed from the sea. Hissing a few curses at the rope, Leda crawled a little closer to the edge and tried to clutch it again, this time succeeding. She pulled at it softly at first, but then with increasing force; it seemed to be caught on something quite firmly. Forgetting her fear of suddenly tumbling head first into the sea, Leda went right up to the edge and heaved with all her might. The rope quivered, before eventually giving way and Leda was sent tumbling onto her back.

Cursing, she sat up and was surprised to see a pair of eyes staring back at her. Leda blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what she was looking at and when she did, she could think of nothing more than to get it off her. After all, a severed head could stain.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The first thing that Paine thought of when she awoke was how her head hurt. The second thought disregarded the first, and moved on to thinking about the dream she had just had. It was definitely an odd one; Paine never usually dreamt about encounters with the dead. Indeed, she had never dreamt once about Rikku since her death. Perhaps it was about time.

When she had been laying there a satisfying amount of time, Paine took to looking around where she was. The walls and ceiling glowed pale green, most likely due to the curtains of the same colour. The room was deathly quiet, save for a distant bird call from time to time. It was also quite empty, with seemingly only the plain metal bed she was sleeping on for content.

There was a figure at the window, whose details where obscured by the sunlight pouring into the room. A cloud passed over, and Paine could see the identity was that of Tidus, who appeared to be asleep. How anyone could lean against an open window like that when they where unconscious and not fall out was beyond her.

Being struck with a sudden thirst, Paine spied a refrigerator below the window Tidus was leaning out of and decided it ought to be checked out.

"Help yourself to anything but the milk." Tidus suddenly announced, although his lips did not seem to move and indeed he still looked deep in slumber. Getting over the initial shock of sound, Paine recalled that particularly annoying habit of the young Blitzer, who never seemed to sleep unless he was knocked out. Not that she knew from experience.

She took some orange juice from the fridge and, assuming there were no glasses to accompany it, drank deeply from the carton. Swallowing back the acid in her throat, Paine thought it only right to know why she was in an unknown room with Tidus. The places she'd been staying in previously usually consisted of cheap, dirty rooms with curtains that never seemed to keep out the light.

"So what is this?" She finally asked, assuming he was still awake.

He shrugged nonchalantly, adjusting his position on the window and grunting.

"Alright then, so why are you here?"

"To keep an eye on you, princess," he replied, grinning. "Although, to be honest, I'd rather be out playing on the beach."

"And you aren't because?"

"Because Baralai's swanned off somewhere and I got left babysitting. I _always_ get stuck babysitting."

Paine could feel a scolding coming on, "So you don't know anything?"

"As always, I am the epitome of innocence."

"Then you won't mind if I leave." She said haughtily.

Tidus turned back to staring out the window, "Well, you could, but…"

"But?"

"Well, you're a little out of the loop. Wouldn't go out there without knowing what's happened, you know?"

Paine, knowing getting any sort of information out of the little airhead would take time, sat back on the bed and crossed her arms, "Such as?"

"Well, seems like my dear Praetor's on his way back now. You can wait." Tidus stood up, looking to Paine like he had the ridiculous pretence of jumping out the window. "Guess I'll be taking my leave…"

Paine stared with a mixture of irritation and disbelief. The idiot really did jump out the window.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Sitting down at his desk, Nooj picked up his morning paper and, much to his consternation, saw Baralai on the front cover. The story included a statement by New Yevon, which stated they absolutely knew where the Praetor was, at home, and that had nothing to do with why they had delayed the week's supposed trade meetings, and also a good few stories to say otherwise. Many people had seen Baralai in Luca several times, but could never prove it. Sighing irritably, Nooj flicked through the rest of the paper with disinterest.

Deaths, explosions, scandals… Could Spira not behave itself for more than three years at a time?

"Noojie?" Leblanc popped her head around the door solemnly. "Time to go, the hearse's waiting."

Nooj sighed, swatting Leblanc's hand away from trying to adjust his tie, "No, we wouldn't want to keep waiting on my account."


	14. Après un rêve

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have a new sky, but no flowers. I promise not to be bitter.

Author's Notes: Yes, Ciz likes French, surprisingly. Surprisingly, since her teacher is a moron, but still… it is very romantic. And Ciz is a secret hopeless romantic, so the attraction is natural, right? Anyway, you may have guessed by now that the chapter titles have very little, if anything, to do with the actual content. Ciz likes thinking up 'good ones' in her spare time, fully aware that she is a sad, sad individual. Ciz thinks 'ashenly' and 'undetection' should be words; if the Americans can bastardise the English language, why can't she?

**XIV. Après un rêve**

"Son of a…!"

If he had thought his last headache was bad, Gippal confidently told himself that this one was bound to be ten times worse. Indeed, it turned out to be. He glared up at Nooj, who had awoken him to such a migraine, who was looking back at him sternly.

"Where'd Paine go?" he demanded wearily.

"Paine?" Nooj raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she… I…" He looked around; they where still very much in Kilika. "Never mind."

"Really." Nooj muttered simply, looking over at the empty space beside Gippal's bed.

Gippal cast his own eye over the space where Lucil had been, considering her to be much luckier than he was. She had recovered and been able to leave. Not that he had much to envy in that, for what purpose had he to return to his home? He doubted it would be any less caustic than his presence was here in this tiny room.

Shaking himself of his thoughts, Gippal smiled to himself which seemed to get the attention of Nooj. Gippal, however, spoke first.

"So, what did I do to gain the pleasure of your company so early in the morning?"

Nooj gave an odd sort of half laugh in response, "It's three in the afternoon."

Gippal brushed him off with a tsk, "Relatively speaking."

"Simply put," Nooj said, turning as if he was to leave but that something was holding him back, "you can't stay anymore. That's all you need to know."

"All I need to know? What's that supposed to mean?" Gippal hissed at him, half for lack of moisture in his throat and half for effect.

"That I have more important things to think about than you." Nooj's eyes where rife with such hatred Gippal had never seen in him before. He stared back at Nooj with the ashen face of a young child being scolded by a school teacher. Gippal had always understood he was selfish at times; it was, in his own mind, an endearing part of his personality. Such an uncharacteristic outburst from Nooj scathed his thoughts.

Nooj left without a word and Gippal took to staring out of the window, pretending not to notice. But Nooj's words were much food for thought. As a high profile murder suspect, keeping everything under wraps would obviously be a burden on Nooj, but it wasn't as if Gippal had forced it on him. Or perhaps it was because of Lucil. She had been hurt because of him, and she was an invaluable member of the Youth League. Maybe Nooj was regretting being his friend, as it meant heading off his own feelings against that of the people he led.

But hate? Nooj was not one to be so quickly led to hate. Or maybe he had just been too wrapped up in his own grief. Ha, there was a thought: grief. Surely everyone had noticed. Save for when he had had the news revealed to him, Gippal could not think of a single occasion of when he had even cried for his family. Of course, a certain amount of base denial he would have expected, but… it was almost like he didn't care that they were dead, so much as the fact that he was suspected of doing it. There was coping with it well, and then there was not. Gippal wondered dully if he was hovering somewhere between the two, a drawback of his often indifferent nature.

Whatever the case, Gippal knew one thing; he needed some fresh air. It was after he had wished to go over to open the sole window in the room that he had the feeling that there was something fundamentally wrong with the entire set up. The foreboding quiet and his own lack of movement seemed enough to trigger such a thought. His lower limbs ached and refused to obey him, as if in silent protest. The pounding headache that he had almost forgotten was back in full force and demanding attention. His one plane of vision jerked about, as if trying to draw his mind to that primary wrong of his entire situation. Gippal tried to cover his own eyes in a mixture of surprise and frustration. It was as if a memory was dragging itself through his brain, trying to break out of his skull through his eye sockets. He could feel it, its desperate and final wrench forward…

It was that wrench that sent Gippal jolting forward as well, tumbling off his bed. He felt the cold from the floor seep into the exposed parts of his legs, but simply wrapped his head in his arms. The feeling had passed. Gippal lay there, on the floor, unflinching for several minutes. Although, by way of his toes, he knew he could again move freely, he now consciously did not want to. Eventually, Gippal remembered about his want for fresh air, and found himself all the more needing of it.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he felt a wave of nausea hit. He hadn't remembered feeling so terrible beforehand, although it could be explained by his lack of movement before now. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed hold of the edge of the chair beside his bed and hauled himself upwards. He found himself leaning on the chair for more support than he had expected. The reactions of his feet seemed to be behind those of all the other corresponding body parts and such a sensation left him at the full mercy of gravity. After a few shaky moments, Gippal felt settled enough to take the few steps needed to reach the window and he tugged what little of it would open.

He stared out upon the overcast sea below, watching the occasional leaf or feather swirl by. He felt the blast of the particularly cold wind and shivered. He gazed out of the tiny window, pretending not to notice the bruised reflection that looked back on the glass plane.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was almost like the annual camping trips they used to have at the temple when Baralai was a boy. Albeit a bizarre one, as the atmosphere the dead trees around them gave out was less than warm and friendly. That said it was exactly that kind of eerie paranoia that Baralai remembered when he thought of those years; perhaps down to an occasion when he was six and was hiding out in the very same forest.

_He knew almost the instant after it had happened that he shouldn't have done it. The Senior Priest had specifically mentioned it as one of the things he did not tolerate from young acolytes, and yet he went through with it anyway. Yevon preached honesty in the face of sin, but Baralai found himself too scared to do so and fled the temple, leaving the article in question behind him._

_He had hid himself in Macalania Forest, expecting every branch that snapped to be caused by the foot of one of the nuns, come to scold him. He had committed the act at around noon, and as the sun began to set, and the young Baralai had become hungry, he wondered whether or not he could sneak back into Bevelle for a short time to get a snack. He thought with intense longing of the fish they would be frying at the camp-out he was supposed to be attending that day, before everything had gone wrong. But that was almost worse; he was missing out on the fun of the trip and he would still be punished when he got home. Baralai sniffed gingerly as he adjusted his temple hat._

_It was then an ominous cold came over him and a feeling of dread spread through his body, its source being a firm hand that had clasped his shoulder. Emitting a small, stifled squeal, Baralai dared to glance over his shoulder into the large, brown disapproving eyes of Sister Jenna. Without a word, she led the young Praetor back onto a more familiar path; a path that led to Bevelle._

_It was, however, their walk through the temple that had left the greatest impression on Baralai. Sister Jenna simply glanced lifelessly ahead, as if she had forgotten him, but her grip on his shoulder remained tight and unrelenting. The various, usually welcoming, statues all looked down upon him, their stony eyes filled with disgust. The High Summoners seemed to be ignoring him, although he could almost hear their sneers echoing around the large hall. Even Lady Yunalesca, the Angel of Yevon, showed only a cold look to his predicament; Lord Zaon loomed ominously overhead, as if to decide his punishment. Baralai often marvelled at the fact he hadn't passed out there and then._

A cold wind blew through the forest; Baralai smiled. He was definitely a child no longer, and yet his first thought for being undetected had been here. In his subsequent visits, it was never as big as he remembered, but Baralai still thought it a good hiding place. Not that he was specifically hiding from anyone, it was just comforting. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Paine shifted slightly in her sleep, causing Baralai to flinch in surprise. He had almost forgotten she was there. Baralai found something quite nostalgic in seeing Paine, almost smiling in her sleep, close as she could to the fire without burning her hair. Some moths twittered apathetically past his head, meeting other insects for a lethargic dance around the top of the glowing embers. It was almost dawn and Baralai had been up all night.

As if such a fruitless and interrupted trip to Luca had been enough, Tidus seemed intent on keeping him waiting a long time. Perhaps revenge for denying him the beach at Kilika? Baralai could, with much amusement, almost imagine the young Blitzer being caught crashed out in his Bevelle apartment by some of his attendants with a disgruntled wife and a lot of explaining to do. It had been quite rude of them, he supposed, to lock Lady Yuna in his hallway the way they had done, but Tidus had assured him it was all necessary. Although, Tidus's idea of necessary also seemed to include a trip to a dairy, of all places, on the way out of Luca, so Baralai remained wholly unconvinced.

If he had been surprised by the youth's knowledge of his own strange phone calls, his reaction was a perfect ten on Baralai's expected response.

_Baralai stopped dead and turned to face him, his blood running cold. The way Tidus was looking at him could only confirm that he knew. As the two were lost in each other's gaze, Yuna was left in the middle, not knowing anything._

_Tidus broke eye contact abruptly, before turning to smile at Yuna. He raised a hand briefly, and before either Baralai or Yuna could make a connection to meaning, he had charged full force towards the Praetor. Baralai felt an unwelcome Blitzball style tackle shove him backwards, out the door, which shut quickly behind Tidus. Baralai leaned against the cold pebble dash wall of his porch trying to catch his breath. Tidus struggled against the door casually, almost oblivious to his shrieking wife inside._

"_You did bring a key out with you, right?" Tidus muttered, cocking his head in Baralai's direction, almost as if he expected him to be in on his plan already._

"_No," Baralai said steadily, returning to a solid two feet, "but even if I did, Lady Yuna is inside. She could easily unlock the door from there."_

"_Right." He mumbled back, searching the space above the entrance keenly. "Hey, could you hold the door a sec'?"_

"_Why?" Baralai could only raise an eyebrow of cynicism at the broad grin in front of him._

"_You'll see." _

_Baralai obligingly stepped forward to bar Lady Yuna's exit, having decided his day couldn't get much worse anyway, as Tidus easily jumped and caught the inside edge of the porch roof's framework. Baralai couldn't honestly see the advantage of this, until his eyes caught a wrought iron bar protruding ever so slightly down from where Tidus's fingers where. Sure enough, Tidus grasped it a half second later, and Baralai rather wished he hadn't. It looked as if it where the very thing holding the entire roof up, and Baralai had stern mental images of it caving in on top of them._

_Small tremors rippled through the doorframe, and Yuna quietened down a bit, clearly trying to figure out what it was. Some plaster from the roof floated down onto Baralai's head, and he could not contain his confidence. There was a horrifying crack from above, and Tidus came tumbling back to earth with a large thud. He held the large bar triumphantly over his head, and Baralai could hear Yuna musing if the two where killing each other._

"_I wonder," he muttered through the door to her._

_Baralai was shooed from the door, and trundled off to sit on the freezing stairs that led down from the porch, head in hands. Wasn't all this just wasting time? Paine could be… And there he was, watching with bemused fascination as Tidus somehow solidly affixed the bar across the door to Baralai's apartment. What did he want, anyway?_

"_Well," Tidus said loudly, announcing he was done, "we better get going, before Yuna breaks that door down. She'd do it, you know. That Yuna, way stronger than she looks."_

"_Go where, exactly?" Baralai questioned suspiciously. After everything, he didn't like where this was going._

_Tidus shrugged, "Not here, that's for sure. Know one thing, though. Me and you, we need to have a little chat."_

"Yo!" Baralai jumped sideways as he heard the loud salutation in his right ear. "Got it!"

Baralai breathed out heavily, "And evidently took your time in the retrieval."

"Well there's gratitude for you." Tidus pouted, pretending to be discouraged. "Your Yevon buddies have that place rigged up like it's contagious, took some time to do the old 'breaking and entering'."

Baralai ran a hand through his hair, wishing for nothing more than a hot bath, "It's done, at least."

"Right." Tidus stepped across the spluttering fire and gave Paine an unceremonious shove with his foot. "Time to wake up the princess and get some breakfast, I think"

Perhaps he had sat up in the forest too long, but Baralai was now eager to get back to some sort of civilisation, even if it meant possible recognition. Although, it was not as if that had stopped them in Luca. The circumstances were different, though. The business in Luca had been far more important.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Gippal did not know how long he had been standing there, gazing out at the ocean, before his feet finally felt as if they would give way. It was already quite dark, with the heavy cloud blocking out what was left of sunset, and Gippal fiddled with the switch on the small lamp beside his bed before sitting on the hard wooden chair, rather than his bed. As the dim light flickered pathetically, Gippal made a vow to sit there as long as his awakened state would allow, feeling just a little bit sick of beds. He sat half asleep for a while, until the door opening caused him to snap his head upwards. Nooj was back.

"Hello again." Gippal said, wholly unenthusiastically. He really wasn't in the mood for an argument.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be up yet?" Nooj asked, much returning Gippal's tone.

"Well, I felt like it." Gippal snapped back sulkily.

Nooj moved forward and grabbed Gippal roughly by the arm, pulling him upwards. Had he been feeling his normal self, Gippal was assured in the knowledge he would have punched him for it, but he was in no state to put up much resistance. Nooj was pulling him towards the door, taking him somewhere, but Gippal was feeling wholly uncooperative. And why should he, he thought, after what Nooj had said to him earlier?

"Get the hell off me." Gippal hissed, trying to tug back his own wrist from Nooj's grasp. He was met with Nooj obligingly pushing him backwards, so that he had a painful collision with the windowsill. Gippal looked up at Nooj, his breathing heavy. Was it really Nooj? Disregarding the aggression, something seemed a little off. Then again, something had seemed a little off about his entire day, so Gippal could only wonder if he was imagining it.

"You're too much of a problem now, Gippal. You don't need to be here anymore." Nooj smiled and made a slow advance. "I don't need you alive anymore."

It was an almost instantaneous flashback when Gippal saw Nooj with the gun. Save the location, and the fact they were alone, everything down to that horrible smile was the same. How helpless had he felt then, with nowhere to run? That half aware, slow motioned moment of fractured sound that had ripped so violently through Baralai's smile. That half conscious, disjointed vision of the blood and laughter. Gippal felt his breath catch in his throat and his entire body shake. Was it all happening again?

He knew the window behind him would not open wide enough to fit him through; the room had become even more of a cage. Nooj raised the gun to Gippal's head. A hand somehow clenched behind his back pushed on the plane, judging that, given enough force, it was weak enough to be forced open. But he was several floors up… It was not as if Gippal had no confidence in his swimming, he just did not like to entertain the possibility of large rocks being at the bottom of such a fall. Had he really anything to lose, though?

Certainly, he could stop now and lose to Nooj. However, if he could just get away from here, he could find out. Yes, he could find out! He needed to know what happened, how could he ever rest otherwise? Gippal smiled back at Nooj, knowing what he was going to do. He would never lose. He would never let himself lose.

It was another slow motioned moment; Nooj's finger raised for the trigger, and Gippal felt his arm collide with the gun, swinging it violently to the left. The action seemed to catch Nooj by surprised, and the shot tore through the glass instead. With all the strength he could muster in his semi-conscious, adrenaline crazed state, Gippal pushed back at the window and managed to half make it out of the window. He could feel nothing but victory as he stood himself up on the narrow window ledge, even though much of his arms and legs had been sliced by the glass and the cold wind danced portentously above his head.

In between the fierce wind and his heavy breaths, Gippal could feel his head lightening and his vision blurring. Nooj looked up at him, unexpectedly devoid of emotion, but did not raise the gun a second time. Had he given up? Why, screamed the thoughts racing around Gippal's head, why was he giving up now? Maybe he wouldn't have to jump off after all.

The sudden grab at his ankle was enough to send Gippal over the edge. Nooj was remaining stationary, so where was it coming from? Another hand was trying to get hold of his leg, and all Gippal could hear was a mixture of the whaling wind and someone else yelling at him. He couldn't make out their voice, but Gippal wasn't going to take chances. He pulled his leg away from the pair of hands violently, and was caught by a particularly vigorous burst of wind.

He could barely feel the sensation of deeply falling; Gippal closed his eyes. It was just like he always told himself: When life throws you lemons, you just have to fall into sleep and wait for the good time's return.


	15. Entangled Carriage

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have sock glue. Yes, my life has gotten to the point where I must glue a sock to my leg to find a bit of sanity. Oy.

Author's Note: So, having this chapter and the next written for about a week, one might wonder what took Ciz so long to upload just this one. Well, as a friend so aptly put it early one Monday morning, "All work and no Internetz make Ciz a caffeine-deprived girl". Amen to that.

**XV. Entangled Carriage**

It was not that she was a psychopath that enjoyed the sensation of murder; it was just that she didn't see anything wrong with killing people for money. Being an assassin was just like any other job; you did the work and you got paid for your time. Seeing her line of work as merely a way of constructively using her talents, the assassin Jyu-on was always quick to irritate when someone came along spouting morality tales at her. In Spira, it had always been the way that those with power or money would, and did, do anything to make their own lives more comfortable. If it involved someone being killed, why then should she not be able to exploit it in order to survive? It was as simple a question as that, but never one those irritable do-gooders could ever answer satisfactorily.

Still, it was always good to return home after a hard day's graft. Her latest job had been a long-haul trip to Kilika and she could only anticipate some angry words would be spouted down the phone to her the following morning. She tittered quietly to herself as she strolled down a small side alley in Guadosalam; her employer would be most displeased that she had decided to be creative with his commissioning words. "Kill the first person you see." Well, obviously he had meant Gippal Okinoko, truth be told she knew he was the hit before she'd even been given the details, but he hadn't been the first person she'd seen. The first person she saw had been Lucil, Commander of the Youth League forces and well, if you couldn't shake up an otherwise monotonous job every now and then, where was the fun in it?

That said, she had been slightly unsure as to how far to go with Lucil at first. Only a few injuries to begin with, an experiment even, to see what reaction she could get. After it turned out to be pretty boring, she decided just to go on and kill Lucil anyway. It was not constructive to her career if someone such as Lucil could give her description. That and she never really thought much of her anyway.

Jyu-on ambled into her front door, trying to juggle her bag of work things and the evening paper she had picked up minutes before with her keys. Setting the bag on the counter of the small bookstore that she shared with her younger sister, the first thing she noticed was the presence of someone else lurking behind a bookcase. Mrs Troma from next door would have put her sister to bed already given the late hour, so it was probably not a friendly someone. She could feel almost every muscle in her body tense as she slowly turned her head to look at the bookcase in question. The lamp above it flickered into light and she could finally see who the person waiting for her was.

"Teora," she muttered, leaning on the counter in front of her and placing a long hand on her cheek. Her ever-annoying brother-in-law was the last person she wanted to see.

"Staying out late again, I see?" He looked less than impressed, then again he never was; perhaps he had heard of her encounter with Lucil already? "Shame you only use your time for fooling around."

"And why would you say that, dear brother? I was only carrying out my reputable work as you so asked me to."

"As I asked you?" Teora looked sour; he had definitely found out already. "I seem to recall asking you to take care of Gippal. A little chicabo tells me you did not. Why would that be?"

Jyu-on smiled and chuckled, looking away from him. This was indeed too amusing, "Your exact words were, 'Kill the first person you see', and that's what I did. Why the accusations?"

Teora smashed his hand into the bookcase on his right, beginning to get a little worked up, "Because I have people to answer to, that's why! You knew very well who I meant you to kill and yet you disobey me and take out someone as unimportant as Lucil? And it took you two trips, no less! How can you miss your own target twice?"

She looked him in the eyes; she couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun, "Brother, brother, death is not the only option open to one such as myself. Rather than killing the body, killing a man's pride can be far more appropriate."

Teora took a few threatening steps towards her, eyes narrowing, "What are blathering on about now?"

"What I'm saying, Teora, is that the mind can prove so fatally subtler than a direct assault. It also leaves less room for traceable evidence. It takes longer but is so much more interesting."

"I have no care for your interests," he replied severely, now using his full inch of height advantage to tower over her, "I had a job that needed to be done and you failed to do it. Do you not realise the repercussions for us? My employer has no interest in the disposal of Lucil."

"Well let that be your problem, brother; I have no care for his interests." Jyu-on couldn't resist the barest of audible giggles. This was bound to set him off.

"No care?" He hissed, grabbing her wrists forcibly, "Well if you have no care for the needs of your employer then I suppose you have no care whether or not you get paid."

She shrugged Teora off easily and faced him with a pout; there was a reason he was the supposed brains behind their little operation, "Oh that I do, as it lies within my interests. So, you know, I suggest you get it for me or there will be dire consequences from me as well as your mysterious petitioner."

She left him with a smirk, intent on heading off to bed. Teora had learned long ago that he could never beat her in a one-on-one, so usually threatening him was enough to get him off her back.

"Why Lucil?" She looked back to see Teora's young, frowning face. If only he could try and see past that which was logical.

"That info's on a need-to-know basis." She replied with a leer, moseying up the stairs. "And so far the only one who needs to know is me, thank you."

"Are you two finished yet?" Someone else had entered the shop, managing to stop Teora mid-retort. Jyu-on didn't really recognise them in the dim light. "Naema's friend has a little job for you."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

_Stop worrying, _Baralai rebuked himself for the tenth time since he had started counting, _no one will recognise you. _Indeed, it was a strange feeling for Baralai, sitting in a crowded café in the Calm Lands, to be among so many people and to be ignored so spectacularly. Since Tidus's acquisition of his secret identicate dresspheres, they could move around with much more ease. The one downside of such spheres, of course, was that they did not mask the voice. This was not a lot of bother for Paine and Tidus, but much more problematic for Baralai. His voice was so much more distinctive than theirs, in part no doubt to the many speeches and seminars he had to attend, and so he attracted a lot of attention. Attention only from kindly old ladies remarking he did a very uncanny impression of the Praetor, but that he shouldn't make fun of such people, was unwanted attention all the same.

Therefore, Tidus and Paine had been set the task of standing in line and ordering, while Baralai went to fetch a table. How long had it been since he had eaten in public and been given the same disdain as all the other paying customers? Given no special treatment and had to search out and fight for his own table? Baralai found it to be a heartening experience and smiled to himself as he secured a table with the correct number of seats. Feeling a great amount of pride swell within him, Baralai allowed himself to mimic some of the other patrons and sit loose in his seat, as if he where in his own home. Glancing over at the public sphere screen, Baralai could imagine with glee the horror of the older members if they saw their Praetor sit in such a way.

The screen had the news on it, and Baralai was dismayed to see he was its focus point. From the little he could hear, it was reporting that top Bevelle officials were lying about his whereabouts, and that it was a repeat of his 'desertion' seven years previous. He frowned and felt a pang of guilt. It was in entirely different circumstances that he had left New Yevon before, but that didn't mean his departure was any less important now. He couldn't very well announce what he and Tidus were up to in front of all Bevelle, but he hated that he had had to leave without some explanation for himself.

He eyed the public phones at the edge of the café, biting the nail of his thumb thoughtfully. If he just called 'home' and told them something, anything, surely that would be better than nothing. However, if he left the table now, someone else would take it and Paine and Tidus would be less than pleased. Then, if he waited for them to return, wouldn't they only try and dissuade him? While thinking over his dilemma, Baralai failed to notice Paine had returned to the table until she slammed her bag down upon it.

Baralai paused his nail chewing in surprise. Before Paine could ask him what was wrong, as nail biting was one of his more obvious nervous habits, Baralai had gone. He took his opportunity to dash across the other side of the café and the phones. On finding a free one, and hoping no one was paying too close attention, he dialled the number of the only sphere cast network he could think of.

"Hello, Mode Sphere Casting, where may I direct your call?" spouted an overly enthusiastic secretary.

"Hello, I'd like to speak to Mrs. Jacobi, please."

"Who can I say is calling, it's just she is very busy at the moment?"

"Tell her this is Baralai, Praetor of New Yevon, speaking."

There was a prolonged silence on the other end and it made Baralai quite nervous.

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"Why are we here, ZT?"

"What?" He exclaimed; it was clearly not the reaction he had been expecting.

"If you're so convinced I'm a traitorous police officer, why are we in my room instead of, say, Hutuc's office?"

"It's not his office," ZT interjected haughtily, "it's Gippal's office."

Keota rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter whose office it is."

"And that's why you'll never be a convincing member of the Machine Faction, Keota." He smiled, shaking his head. "It really does matter whose office it is."

"Regardless," Keota pressed on, trying not to let the office politics annoy her, "why are we not in that office which belongs to Gippal but is currently being used by Hutuc and here in my room? I was pretty sure you'd want to impress Daddy by showing him how smart you where in figuring all this out."

Whatever vague sense of smugness ZT's face still had disappeared. He grabbed Keota roughly by the shoulders, "How do you know about that? Nobody knows about that, how could you?"

Keota frowned, squirming under his grip, "Well, even if I didn't, you pretty much confirmed it. Why is it such a big deal, anyway? Lucinda freaked out just as much when she found out." ZT looked horrified, letting out a small sort of whine and sitting on the bed next to Keota, head in hands. "You should really work on that loud mouth of yours."

"He'll kill me."

Despite their situation, Keota couldn't help feel a bit sorry for ZT; he really did look terrified. "Look, we found out a while ago, and since it hasn't got back to you already, here of all places, then I think you'll be fine. I don't think she'll blab, and I won't either… unless provoked."

ZT was silent for a long time, before he looked up, staring blankly at the pictures on Sayta's billboard. "We're here," he began, not subtle in his want for a change of subject, "because I want to help you."

"You _what_?" It was Keota's turn to be surprised.

"I said I wanted to help, is it so hard to understand?" He got up sharply and gave the door a glance.

"Well, yeah, it is hard to understand; wouldn't that be betraying your beloved Faction?"

ZT snorted, "It may be a betrayal to the Board, but not the Machine Faction as a whole. Figure I'd be doing everyone a favour."

Keota raised an eyebrow to the unexpected turn of events, "I'm still not really following."

"Look, I won't lie, my first loyalty's always going to be to Gippal, and you'd find it's the same with the rest of the workers, but that's the reason. Not many of us really trusted the management after we heard what'd happened, so I think it'd be better if I helped a third party. There'd be a much better chance of finding the truth that way."

"You're saying the Faction's governing board had something to do with the murders? Or rather, had a hand in covering them up… to an extent."

ZT looked away awkwardly, glancing towards the door again, "No one has any evidence they had anything to do with it, no, but… they acted so suspiciously at the start. They didn't announce what had happened to us at all, the workers only found out because of the media. Then, when anyone asked about it, they never answered. They kept well quiet, and even tried to cut us all off from the press."

"The press? You mean they tried to stop you from speaking to them?" Keota shrugged, "That's pretty understandable."

"No, what they did was block all the sphere waves coming into the whole of Djose, stop the newspapers coming in and refuse anyone who wanted to leave on the morning that everyone found out. For a whole three days. It was chaos down here; no one could get in touch with the outside world."

Keota considered ZT seriously for a while; was he being serious? How could the Machine Faction cut off an entire community, one that was so important in Spira's industry, and not have everyone else notice? In the days following the murders, the CID had made many communications to Djose, and everything had seemed normal. She'd walked around the place herself; seen people come and go as they pleased. She's been here in the Machine Faction for a while, and not heard even a hesitant whisper about it. ZT had to be exaggerating. There was no way they could have pulled something that big off.

"For three days we didn't know if our leader was alive or dead. Then, suddenly, they lift their embargo and announce that Gippal was made the main suspect in the murder investigation. Innocent or not, it was more than enough to build up some major distrust between the ordinary workers and the Board. Not one word of explanation and anyone that complained was fired. Something's not right, Keota, and it's for the good of the Faction that we find out what they're up to."

"We?" Unbelievable as all this was, Keota had decided to humour ZT in order to find out where he was going with this. "What makes you think my DCI's going to trust you after the camera stunt you pulled? Yeah, he knows all about that."

ZT's trademark smug grin was suddenly put back in its rightful place, "I do have a peace offering; something I didn't let old Hutuc in on."

"Which is?" asked an impatient Keota; she hated how ZT was so overly dramatic.

"You remember the official reason for my trip to Luca? Well, your man Zach sent me away with some very interesting data. A mysterious residue left in the blood of the victims. It just so happens I've figured out what it is, and it's not something you'd expect."

"Just get on with it."

"Alright, alright," ZT had an excitable, child-like quality to his speech and movements that Keota couldn't help inwardly chortling about, "the substance was dimemoric aquate. Basically, it's the active ingredient in dresspheres. Or should I say dresspheres of the illegal kind."

"Oh, come on." Keota chuckled, feeling the absurdity of it all. "Checking for identicate dresspheres would have been one of the first things they would have done. Are you telling me they might not be the real bodies?"

ZT looked at her sourly, his bubble burst, "I'm not an expert on that kind of technology, so who knows if it would be possible to remove the sphere element from dresspheres. Best person to ask would be Terachi Shinra, but who knows where that kid's got to."

"Oh yes, Shinra, the Al Bhed's first boy wonder. I'm surprised he never joined the Machine Faction, certainly had the brains for it."

ZT laughed to himself slightly, "It's not like Gippal never tried; he knew the kid could've been a huge asset. But nope, said he wanted to do things on his own, and that's the way it's been. Except, of course, he doesn't seem to have done anything on his own, has he?"

"So, what you'd really need to do would be to track down Shinra." Keota crossed her arms and finally began to relax. "I guess in your brilliant wisdom you've already started that."

His smile faltered ever so slightly, "Ah, not quite. Looking into Shinra would raise a few eyebrows up top, you know. There's no way they'd lend me the personnel without wanting to know exactly what I was up to, and that would kind of defeat the whole point of us, wouldn't it?"

"Again with the 'us'." Keota muttered, shaking her head. "In any case, I'll inform the DCI about it. Since it's such interesting data, I'm sure he'd be willing to let the whole camera incident slide."

"Right." ZT stretched and adjusted his jacket, preparing to leave. It was almost the end of the evening shift and Sayta would be back soon. "Needed to keep up appearances and all that."

"Really?" She asked, adjusting her own duvet. "I kinda got the impression you were trying to impress Hutuc. I wonder, are you so afraid this Board will find out you're looking into Shinra, or that he will?"

ZT muttered a quick, "Whatever", as he exited the room, but Keota smirked to herself as she caught a clear blush from him.


	16. Of Dead Trees and Strawberries

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today I have a Hong Kong Hippy Box. "Let Love Flowww…" ". . ."

Author's Note: Not much to note, other than that Ciz wants pie. And for Gippal to go postal. Because that would be funny. But alas… plot. Anyone who has watched Bleach, according to Ciz, will get the title as well. Even this 3rd person narrator has little confidence that is the truth.

**XVI. Of Dead Trees and Strawberries**

The wind was piercing in nature and the rough glass threatened to tear his skin at any second, and yet TDC Carter could not move himself. All he could do was stare in disbelief down at the raging waters below, even though it was so dark he could barely see three feet in front of him. He reflected that this whole case was shaping up to be the worst in his short career at the CID. Never had he let his main suspect get away so dramatically. He studied the sea beneath him carefully, waiting for a body to come into view.

His task had been so simple, to go on ahead of Macaro and retrieve Gippal in preparation for their departure. The Youth League had been suitably quiet; Nooj was away in Bevelle and many had been given the day off. Carter supposed he should have noticed something was afoot straight away when Gippal was actually being semi-cooperative. Not fully cooperative because Carter had got the impression he wasn't listening to a word he was saying. Half of the time he was explaining to Gippal what was happening he was staring off into space and the other half he was staring at Carter with a creepily blank expression.

_After a short attempt at an explanation, Carter decided that if Gippal didn't want to listen then he wouldn't waste his breath on him. Sighing, he approached the sulky suspect in front of him._

"_Never mind then, let's just go." He waited a while and, when Gippal did not seem intent on moving of his own accord, took his arm and hauled him upwards. He was surprised that he was being met with little to no resistance, but was not ready to complain on it. The easier things where for him the better._

_The trip out of the room seemed to be going smoothly, too, until Gippal 'freaked out' and decided he didn't want to leave._

"_Get the hell off me," he hissed at Carter, struggling to get out of his grasp. _

_Although Gippal wasn't very strong, he was moving about enough to cause Carter trouble. He tried to grab his suspect's other wrist and restrain him, but Gippal gave him a solid smack in the face for his efforts. Momentarily infuriated, Carter responded by giving Gippal an angry blow to the chest, causing the cyclopic Al Bhed to stagger backwards to the window._

_Being only closed in on two sides, Carter had expected Gippal to make a run for it. Instead he just stood there, unmoving, and reminded Carter of a rabbit. Whenever he had encountered a wild rabbit in his childhood it would never run away but stay completely still and put its ears down, frightened, trying to pretend it didn't exist. Carter also knew from experience that when in such situations the rabbits bit him when he tried to get close to them, so he thought it best not to approach Gippal for the time being. _

_They both stood still, as if in a stare out with one another, and Carter could not help notice how profoundly frightened Gippal looked of him. The Al Bhed shook with irregular breaths; he couldn't understand it. In all of their one previous encounter Gippal had on the whole ignored him, save a few contemptuous comments. He had no reason to be scared of him at all, but maybe he wasn't afraid of Carter. Perhaps he had been listening after all and was afraid of being locked up, afraid of being found guilty. Most likely afraid of Spira's stringent death penalty for murderers. _

_Without provocation, Gippal's features became angry and Carter began thinking that something wasn't right with him. For a start, he didn't really seem to be looking angrily at Carter, more like a spot just above his head. He was also reacting to the silence, muttering as if someone was saying things he didn't approve of. Carter was beginning to get freaked out by Gippal's strange and angry facial reactions when he wasn't saying anything particularly insulting or anything at all. _

"_Hey, what's up with-?" Gippal cut Carter off rather abruptly._

"_I'll never lose them," he whispered, but with enough conviction to make Carter take notice. Such a desperate anger in his eyes, Carter had never seen such a thing before, but it was all an apparent diversion. Gippal suddenly smiled at Carter and then took advantage of his being distracted to turn and smash the window with his fist. It was not before, however, he had struck Carter in the face again with the same swing, knocking the young detective to the ground. When Carter had quickly gotten to his feet, he looked up in horror to see Gippal standing precariously on the outside window ledge. A suicidal main suspect DCI Macaro would not approve of and all on his watch! Carter really was having what was shaping up to be a bad day._

_After a delayed moment of Gippal looking down on him, half pleased, half frustrated, Carter plunged himself into action, attempting to grab him by the legs and haul him back into the room. He managed to get an ankle first, but Gippal was making it very difficult by his continued struggling. _

"_What are you playing at, moron? Get back in here now, do you want to fall off and die?" It was the best Carter could come up with, but Gippal merely looked up to the sky, ignoring him._

_Carter knew he was taking a risk grabbing him in such a way but he was not left with any other options. He managed to grasp hold of Gippal's other leg, even though he could feel some of the ragged glass scraping through his shirt and scoring his skin, and tried to pull him back in through the frustratingly small, awkward window._

_It was that one small moment, when he had momentarily lost his grip on one of Gippal's ankles, and Gippal had taken the opportunity to kick him in the face, that he lost hold of his charge completely and was sent sprawling back onto the floor for a second time. He heard a small, panicked yell but when Carter looked up Gippal was gone. Stumbling over words of profanity and surprise, he quickly rushed over the window and looked down. He saw nothing, sweet nothing, but was strangely captivated by it._

So entranced with the waves below, it took Carter a moment to realise he could hear a far-off banging. He wracked his brains as to what it was and where it was coming from. Up here it was himself and the elements; he couldn't even see any birds in the sky. He was soon presented with an answer, as DCI Macaro and an entire squadron of uniforms blasted down the door dramatically. Carter did an almost literal double take in surprise, finally getting caught on the jagged glass on the window and cutting his arm.

"CARTER!" Macaro was loud, angry and not in the mood for excuses. Carter mentally set back his promotion prospects a good three years. "Just what do you think you're doing, locking the door on your superior officer? You were getting Gippal out of this room, not barricading him in!"

"I… I…" Horrific thoughts of disciplinary hearings and instant demotion out of CID where swirling around Carter's head too quickly to allow him to think of a coherent reply. "I never locked no door." He eventually murmured.

Macaro stepped out of the doorway to berate his junior officer some more, but he was stopped from doing so by two things. First was that he noticed his main suspect was not in the room. Secondly, he noted that his junior officer was standing next to a broken window, the room's only exit save the recently unlocked door. Macaro had a very bad feeling about the whole thing.

"What happened, Carter?" He said, trying to keep a calm, steady voice in the face of his terrified looking subordinate.

Deciding with a deep breath that he might as well come clean, Carter replied simply, "He fell."

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Yuna slumped away from her kitchen, carrying a humble sandwich, to the living room and slouched onto the sofa. She was in a most certainly lousy mood and very tired. She turned on her Comsphere and flicked through the channels half-heartedly, taking a small bite of the bacon sandwich. Then she saw a station that took her interest; a station with a report about Baralai, and anything Baralai was doing Yuna was more than sure Tidus was doing too. Yes, she would have many words with him when he came home.

The station was carrying the tagline of an 'exclusive statement' from the Praetor, in which he assured the followers of New Yevon that he was ill, but otherwise in good company. The station noted excitedly that he hadn't stated where he was in company, or who that company was, but that the specifically untraceable phone call he had delivered was from within the Bevelle area. It also reported that Baralai was 'surprised' that his few days of absence had 'caused such a fuss' and that he felt it necessary to make a direct comment to the people of Bevelle. Baralai was quoted as saying that he would under no circumstances abandon his people again, but that he had to put his own affairs in order before he could be relied on to do right by his followers. The programme continued with speculation and repetition of parts of the statement until Yuna got thoroughly sick of it and turned the Comsphere off.

Yuna had noted with some interest that Baralai had been seemingly unable to directly lie about what where he was, in that he didn't mention it, but with that came a fear. Yuna feared that his words had a deeper meaning than first appeared. 'Put his own affairs in order', what did that mean exactly? Why did it have to involve her husband leaving her? Perhaps it didn't; knowing Tidus he had just gone along for the ride, just willing to help. Yuna cursed his selfishness. Did he not realise how upset it would inevitably make her, him leaving so suddenly again? Did he really not fully understand, after all this time, how hard it was to lose him once?

It had been her one great fear these past years that he would leave her again. She was so anxious about it sometimes; she felt the need to accommodate him even when he was being unreasonable, just so he wouldn't feel like leaving. Yuna knew that the circumstances around him leaving where so much different from last time. He was not dead, although how could she know? He was not burdening himself for her sake, although she had no way of knowing that was not the case either. If anything, Yuna supposed she was angrier with herself than Tidus. Seven years ago, when she had finally got him back, she had sworn to herself she would never let him go again. And what had she done that night? She had just stood back and let Baralai effectively kidnap him; or perhaps it had been the other way around? It was yet another thing she just did not know and couldn't get an answer for.

Everyone else had been asking questions as well. The kids were by far the first to notice his absence was prolonged. It hurt Yuna to lie to such sweet, innocent children. She couldn't very well tell Lauren and Matt that their father was a selfish idiot who was off on some dangerous 'adventure' that involved putting their mother through a whole load of unnecessary anxiety and his children potentially growing up with only one parent. No, telling them he was helping look after Uncle Baralai while he was sick was a much easier option. Lulu and Wakka had been curious as well, not to mention all the grief she had been getting from the ever-insistent Beclem.

Ultimately, she really had no idea what they were doing. What bothered her most was that, from what she had caught of their conversation, Tidus was adamant that she would not be involved. In fact, he seemed downright insistent on getting as far away from her as possible, which led Yuna to worry she had driven him away. In the end, all she could do was pray for their safety, whatever they were doing.

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When Gippal opened his eye once again, it was not exactly the good times he had naively been expecting. Instead, it was painful to breathe and there was sand in his eyes. And his mouth. And other unpleasant places. He was also soaking wet, cold and downright confused. Gippal resented reality. From what he could see, he was on a beach and on the other side of that beach where trees. Out towards the sea there was a large, blurry pink blob on the horizon. Gippal could only assume it was Youth League HQ and that the trees belonged to Kilika Forest. He let out a long, strangulated groan. It was not something he had allowed himself to do up until this point, and it was not entirely brought about by the pain of hitting the sea from the top of a forty five-storey building.

Trying not to think too much on his frustration, Gippal guessed that, by the amount of light, it was early in the morning. Assuming the police had noticed he was missing, they would surely find him here sooner or later. When they did find him, though, what would stop them sending him straight back into the clutches of Nooj? That would surely negate the efforts of his miraculous escape. He could explain to them why we had jumped, but they probably wouldn't believe him. If anything they where now probably even more convinced of his guilt because he had 'ran away'. If he went back of his own accord, however…

Slowly, Gippal pulled himself into a sitting position, wishing for once he could wake up and not feel like crap. Taking deep breathes, he looked around him. Sand, sea, birds, person, tree… Person? At the far end of the relatively small beach there was a person crouching down. Having not been outside in a long time and having spent a lot of that time with a restricted group, seeing a completely new person outside of the confines of the police was something he was willing to put a bit of trust in. Gippal began to drag himself towards this person, he didn't think his legs could take walking, with the hope of some help.

Considering the amount of noise he was making, Gippal was surprised the person didn't look up immediately as he came up behind them. The suit-wearing stranger was perhaps too caught up in their own thoughts, as they didn't seem to hear him coughing either.

"Hey!" If that didn't get their attention he just didn't know what would.

The stranger stood up and looked around abruptly, taking a few seconds to catch sight of Gippal. He, however, had already seen their blonde-haired, one eyed face. The stranger smiled down at him eerily and Gippal felt his breathing stop completely. There was no way it could be… Then he caught sight of the rifle in his hand. A single bead of blood ran down it leisurely, pooling at the gun's tip. His shirt was covered in blood and Gippal was pretty sure he knew who it belonged to. This was the bastard who…

"My, my, my, look who it is," his other self sneered, looking down at him with a sordid sort of amusement, "how unfortunate."

Yes it made much more sense now. He knew he would never have been capable of killing Rikku and Roxy and he was right. He had definitely not done the deed at all. It was the bastard standing in front of him. Gippal made a mental pause. He finally knew the identity of the murderer and he had a chance to do something about it. He'd never thought about what he would do when he found them. He supposed he didn't need to. Ignoring the wracking pain throughout his entire body, Gippal used all of his remaining strength to lunge violently at the self in front of him with an animal-like wail.

He barely knew what he was doing, save that his fists, feet and knees where repeatedly meeting his other self's body. He screamed, increasing in his uncontrollable attacks. It was his main thought, his only thought; kill him. This person, this animal, had taken away everything he loved. Murdered them in cold blood. Laughed in front of his face. What else could he do? There was nothing else to do. He was driven on by pure fury, as if a long dormant beast within him had finally been released from maddening captivity. He was so preoccupied in killing this man, ripping him apart from limb to limb, that Gippal never heard the woman's screaming. He never noticed the blows he himself was taking, both magical and physical. He never noticed a man's roar from behind him.

An impossibly strong pairs of arms suddenly caged Gippal around the middle. He struggled and shrieked, wanting so badly to get back to that murderer. He knew that he was still breathing. Why should he leave him that way? This man had not shown any mercy to his family. Not given a care if they died in pain or not. Why should he leave this stranger with one unbroken bone in his entire body? He could see no one else on the beach except that smug face, hardly even bloodied, leering at him. He had no idea who or what was restraining him so forcibly. No matter how much he resisted and thrashed about, howling and kicking, he could not break free. He could not finish his job. He had to… He just had to get revenge on this callous murderer, this stranger who had killed his family for no reason.

The frustration was overwhelming. His body started to feel the strain of his constant struggle. He could hear a distant conversation, questions he couldn't quite grasp. He wanted to know who was there. Who was there, preventing him from destroying this stranger? It was a deep, passionate hatred that Gippal had eventually passed out with, just as he had begun to catch a familiar voice…

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It was twilight, and Hutuc was almost sleeping where he sat until ZT had barged in to tell him that he should switch on the Comsphere. After reprimanding his son for not knocking before entering Gippal's office, Hutuc obligingly turned on the office's Comsphere, much enhanced from the public models. On it, there was first a reporter from Bevelle chattering excitedly about something the Praetor had done. Hutuc looked up at his son with a frown.

"Is this it, ZT? I am not interested in Bevelle politics."

ZT chuckled, "Just wait for it."

When the first report had ended, there was a second item that did get Hutuc's attention; the instigator of the attack on Luca General Hospital had been identified. She was named as Naema Tulah, a 'mentally-disturbed femme fatale in her early 20s'. Hutuc could feel his own face fall.

"Told you it'd be worth it." ZT grinned in Hutuc's face, apparently thinking he deserved praise for being the bearer of such bad news.

Hutuc looked back on him coldly, "Leave me be now, Zyou."

Looking disappointed, ZT skulked out of the room, leaving Hutuc alone in his leader's office. He sighed wearily; Naema Tulah had been a name Hutuc had never wanted to hear again. It had been only three years since he'd pushed her out of his life, but the guilt was still there. The guilt of being such a damned old fool as to help her along. He always told himself that it was his loneliness that made him do it, rather than any ill intent, but he was sure Gippal would never see it that way if he ever found out.

It was all so innocent at first. Certainly, the age-wearied Hutuc, a bit past his prime, had been surprised when a pretty young woman had come up to him in the bar he usually frequented on the odd occasion he went to Bevelle. Perhaps it was because he was on his fourth glass, or perhaps he was just desperate enough for optimism, that he was pleased when she told him she preferred 'experience'. An old fool in love, victim to a controlling young woman, that's how he always liked to think of it. It was much easier to live with things that way, especially since she had been the one arrested and not him. Wasn't that just because she had defended him to the end? It was not a time Hutuc liked thinking back on.

Not that he was some decrepit bachelor that had been single all his life. 26 years ago, a young Hutuc had had it all. A new home, wife, job… Yes, he hadn't always been so pitiable. Of course, back then, it was always the happy ones that Sin seemed to target the most. Indeed, when Sin had attacked their home at that time, it was Hutuc, the happiest man in Spira, who had lost everything. 26 years ago, Sin had destroyed his home, his friends and his wife. Except the cursed creature didn't quite finish the deed with Saya. He outwardly sighed. Beautiful Saya, he could still see her smiling face as if it were yesterday. Sin had fatally injured her, but she had such a fighting spirit. Even with such painful injuries, she had fought it out, bedridden and in pain, for an entire year before her body gave way. What a fool he had been, to not stay with her at all times during that last year. He had been selfish, caught up in his own feelings, did stupid things. Things he regretted to this day.

So what was Naema to him back then, those three years ago, but the only one willing to listen to the ramblings of a sour, ageing fool? 20 years of loneliness, so quickly healed by a pretty face and a listening ear? Hutuc laughed bitterly, he really never changed. So, in his infatuation, he had helped her, agreeing to hide their relationship only because of her age, rather than in belief they were doing something wrong. She was 20 years his junior, he could only think of the scandal it would have caused. It was so easy now, to look back and see what a fool he'd been.

How sad it had been, to only realise his misdeeds when Naema had been gone a while. She had gone back to Bevelle for two weeks, and Hutuc had been missing her at first, but slowly enjoying a bit of freedom. He had put it down to women being very demanding creatures. Why, it was walking into this very office and seeing, in a clearly unguarded moment, his young leader so upset, so frustrated he could not help the woman he loved, that first set off the chain reaction of guilt within him. While on the outside he tried to console Gippal, inside he was torn. Had he not sworn fealty to the Machine Faction, to his workers, to his leader? And there he had easily disregarded that trust for a bit of skirt.

In his shame, Hutuc thought many times of giving Naema up, but could not find the courage, lest she uncover his involvement. The Faction would have never forgiven his betrayal, and what had he but the institution? The day she had been caught by the police was a day of both relief and anxiety for him. His part in Rikku's stalking had never come to light, but the fact Naema had never given his name in court made him feel that he owed her some unspoken debt.

He had lived a feared and guilty life since then, hoping upon hope she would never call him up on it.

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In his second strange awakening of the day, Gippal found himself back in bed. Although his body ached more he felt strangely better than before. Perhaps it was the work of the soft sheets, peaceful surroundings and quiet echo of the sea. There was a comforting element to the smell of salt and fish that drifted around the place. It was all so… serene. For once in a long time, he felt almost as ease.

"Are you awake yet?" A sharp prod and voice broke up whatever serenity Gippal had found in the situation. He moaned and turned to the other side, away from the unwelcome voice. Just how had he gotten here?

"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I? Don't think you'll lie long, though."

No, this person was not intent on going away. With a small groan, Gippal turned his head back and looked up at the annoying woman. She was one he did not recognise. He supposed he should be grateful; she had presumably saved him from the beach. The beach… he had a feeling something important had happened on the beach.

"I'm Dona, by the way." The woman drawled, glaring down at him. "You'd do well to remember it, seeing as you'll be hearing it a lot in court."

"Huh?" Gippal just couldn't understand what her problem was.

"It's called assault. I've sent Barthello to the police so don't get too comfortable."

"Assault?" Gippal suddenly remembered his encounter with the murderer who looked so much like himself. He remembered beating him up as well. Someone he did not remember assaulting was this Dona. He frowned back at her, "I don't hit women."

Dona laughed contemptuously, "Well you certainly seemed to have no qualms about it this morning. I was minding my own business and you attacked me for no reason. With that temper it's no wonder everyone thinks you're guilty."

Gippal could only stare back at her blankly. He was almost entirely sure he had never met this woman before in his life and here she was accusing him of beating her up. He thought he would remember something like that. Then he thought of the stranger and how much he had looked like him. That couldn't be right. He had no twin he was aware of and yet it would be quite impossible it could have been anyone else. Granted, of course, he was in a right frame of mind. What about those restraining hands that had come from nowhere? What about the invisible hands that had tried to save him from falling? Gippal knew his eyesight was not the best in Spira, but could he really have been so far off as to start hallucinating?

"Don't try your amnesia act with me," Dona jeered, setting aside some bandages and sitting on the bed.

Gippal blushed. Had he, instead of trying to exert his own revenge, inadvertently beat up an innocent person? He had been lucky she'd taken him home at all.

"Um, I'm sorry?" he murmured sheepishly, sitting up and trying to at least look apologetic.

Dona snorted, "A bit late for that, don't you think? You're just lucky Barthello pities people like you; if it had been up to me you'd still be lying on that beach a lot worse for wear than you are now."

"No, really. I… wasn't feeling myself."

Dona was almost cackling with disdain, "And I suppose you used that excuse on the police too. Didn't mean to murder Rikku, you just weren't feeling yourself that night. Is that what you told them?"

"No, I…" He felt horrible inside. Every time he thought he was making things better, he seemed to do the one thing that did the opposite and make everything so much worse. He was so stupid. All he had had to do was protect them. Just that one thing and he had managed to screw it up so spectacularly. He had ruined the lives of the two people he treasured the most and yet he was the one who had paid back the least. Ignoring what Dona was saying he curled up into a ball, just wanting it all to stop. He had no idea what to do. Rikku had always…

"Are you even listening to me?" Dona's tongue-lashing brought Gippal back to reality. Dona was not a woman who took being ignored lightly it seemed. "I said 'What were you doing on that beach anyway?' I would have thought you'd be under police custody in Luca. Don't tell me, you escaped in a moment of their blinding incompetence. I should have known…"

"I was with Nooj," Gippal mumbled, remaining in his ball but willing to talk to her.

"I doubt that. Nooj has been in Bevelle since yesterday morning. Whoever you thought you were with, it was not the Mevyn." Dona chuckled, playing absent-mindedly with a loose cord on her dress. "Maybe it was the Praetor. Everyone knows he wouldn't have the backbone to believe you actually did it. What surprises me is that Nooj even bothered going to that trade meeting; what with your dear Baralai's 'situation' I would have thought they where pretty redundant."

Gippal raised his head at her words, "Baralai? What 'situation'?" Hadn't Nooj not been able to get in touch with him? Hadn't New Yevon not known where he was? He was out of the loop. Anything could have happened to Baralai and he would have had no way of knowing.

"Pulled another one of his disappearing acts and really gave Yevon a fright. He made a statement saying he was 'ill' but not everyone at the Temple is convinced. Or so Barthello tells me. I did hear on the news leukaemia ran in his family, but that's most likely nothing more than gossip."

Gippal returned his head to their position above his knees, "It doesn't, as far as I know, but…"

He was interrupted, as there was a clamour outside the house. Three sets of pounding footsteps soon burst into the room, causing both Gippal and Dona to stare. As Macaro, Carter and Barthello all piled into the small house Dona looked less than impressed.

"Don't just barge in here like you own to place," She chastised, mainly to Barthello. "It's so obnoxious."

Gippal merely looked over his sheets meekly, hiding behind Dona from the eyes of the disgruntled detectives in the doorway. He rather doubted they and their large mob of uniformed officers that where gathering outside where feeling very happy with him.


	17. Marmalade Sun

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today I have a brand new song. Some say I'm a fool for buying something I didn't even know I liked. I say nay; where's the fun in caution?

Author's Notes: Ciz often apologises to her readers, albeit in her head, for being such a lazy author. When she completes a chapter it's, "Yay, now I don't have to write for another six months! Sleep and coffee for all!" rather than any kind of enthusiasm. And yet she persists with this delightful little farce. Logic, may thy always be unknown to she.

**XVII. Marmalade Sun**

Dona raised a disapproving eyebrow. "Oh, how wonderfully subtle of you. There's got to be at least twenty of you out there, did you expect no one was going to notice? Kilika's still a small town, dear."

DCI Macaro looked back outside the door to see a crowd was gathering; she did have a point. However, he and his twenty-strong force where only there on the assumption that Gippal was going about trying to kill people. This Barthello had told Carter as much when the hulk had tackled him in the middle of the docks. He had claimed Gippal was, at that very moment, in the process of trying to murder his wife Dona, and with a shriek of her name had led his officers and him to his house. The reality could not be quite different. Macaro resented the fact that he could not punch the idiot due to public relations.

Carter gave Barthello a questioning look, which prompted a response of, "Well they were when I left."

"That's not good enough!" Carter bellowed with an indignant stomp of the foot, "You said there was murdering!"

"There could have been!" Barthello had an out and out advantage in height and bulk over Carter as the two squared each other up, "For all I knew, my poor sweet Dona might have -"

Barthello was interrupted by Dona's scathing gaze, followed by an, "Out."

"B-but Dona, I was only trying to prote…"

"Now." The officers parted the way as Barthello slumped off. Dona had had to stand up, and he knew that meant she was serious. With a howl of her name, he was gone. Dona turned towards Macaro. "Are you going to get rid of him now, then?"

"That may be a slight problem," Macaro muttered, glancing at Gippal, who was hiding without much success under some of Dona's bed sheets, "if we took him out there as it is we might have a small riot on our hands."

"So very lacking in initiative, aren't you?" Dona sneered, rummaging around in a drawer, "Luckily for you, I have a slight disregard for the law." Dona presented Macaro with an identicate dressphere, which he accepted with a sour face. Dona shrugged. "Anyone who's anyone has one, detective."

"That doesn't excuse it." Macaro frowned, handing the dressphere to Carter.

Carter stood over Gippal, almost with apprehension, and gave him a firm prod in the back. "Are you awake?"

"No," was Gippal's mumbled reply.

"Well, don't try running off again, alright?"

"I didn't run off anywhere," Gippal muttered, sitting up and looking out the window with a glazed expression.

"Stop being smart and hurry up," Carter replied through the sea of light which Gippal had been engulfed in.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was with a sharp slump and an incomprehensible string of syllables that DS Meva joined DI Leda at her usual canteen table on a cold Luca morning.

"I hate Monday mornings, too." Leda did not look up from her stone cold tea. She didn't have the energy.

Meva, on the other hand, could not resist gravity's insistence she bury her head in her bag. "Especially when you got next to no sleep last night."

Leda nodded, sipping at her cup with a disdainful expression. "Same."

"You get a bad dream, too?" Meva could almost hear her shoulder muscles groan as they tensed. "I heard you get 'group dreams' every now and then."

"I think you mean group hallucinations?" Leda set down her cup with an air of almost defeat. "Besides, it was not so much a nightmare as a night of sterilising my hands and legs and crouching over my washing machine."

After taking a while to register the strange response, Meva raised her head, intending to look questioning. Leda rested her head on a hand and sighed. "A severed head'll do that to you."

Meva sat up at this news; something interesting or unusual always had that effect, even when she felt half dead. "Do spill."

"I went down to meet the ever lovable Tim for a squealing session and all I got was a lousy murder investigation."

Meva snorted, "Tough break. Guess the dealers snuffed him out in the end. Whoever said dealing with murders was glamorous or exciting should have been fed to the fangs a long time ago."

Leda finished her tea with a half smile. "That's the thing, I'm not quite sure it was the dealers in question. It's not their usual shoot first, ask questions later kind of style. Besides, I don't know any drug dealing group called, 'Jyu-on'."

"Jyu-on?" Meva mused, becoming closer to being functional as the conversation went on, "Maybe they're the new guys in town?"

"Not Jyu-on again?" A voice from behind complained. Carter arrived at the table, hair and clothes singed and with a scowl on his face.

"And so our happy party becomes a three," Meva muttered, shooting Carter an amused look. "Good night?"

Carter looked sour, "I wish. 'It'll be a simple retrieving job', the DCI said, but what did I get? Suicidal suspects, hysteric buffoons and an annoyingly timed bomb scare."

"Looks like it was more than a scare from where I'm standing," Leda muttered, eyeing the charred patches on Carter's eyebrows with interest.

"Yes well. You were talking about 'Jyu-on', weren't you? Macaro reckons that's the one who did Lucil in."

Meva was more than a little surprised, "Oh? I thought it was Gippal for a definite. He was the only one in the room at the time, right? Plus, he's still alive. Why kill Lucil and not him?"

Carter shrugged, looking at the ceiling as if it was there in spite of him, "That's what I thought. It turns out, though, there was this calling card with, 'Jyu-on', left at the scene. We didn't get it before 'cause some idiot Captain at the Youth League swiped it, and if that doesn't scream cover-up… Whatever. Anyway, the DCI's convinced it's an assassin with a grudge against the League, so that's for the Kilika boys to sort out, far as he's concerned. So, how to you two fit into this?"

Leda traced a finger around the rim of her cup in thought, "There's definitely a connection to Kilika, then. You remember Tim?" Carter gave a sort of half shrug in confirmation, which she took as a sign to continue. "He was supposed to enlighten me on an upcoming shipment of flan tentacles from the island, but all I found was a severed head with 'Jyu-on' stamped on it."

Carter frowned, setting down the jam doughnut he had brought over and had just been about to eat. "Better tell the DCI then, hadn't you? Maybe they're nothing to do with our case, but the Kilika boys'd wanna hear about it. You know Macaro's been trying to get one over on that prick Suzerain for years, it'd make his day."

"Hm. He's in now, I take it? Guess it would be easier to offload the case onto Kilika at the moment." Leda got up and stretched. "That's what I hate about high-profile cases, there's no time to do anything else."

"You're right about that," Meva replied thickly, half-way through Carter's no longer wanted doughnut. "I mean, I know I wasn't exactly a top brass socialite before, but damn. I haven't been to Kioku in three days."

Carter snorted, losing interest in Leda's exit from the room. "I haven't had a drink in 96 hours."

"That's, what, four days? Shit."

"Tell me about it. And I won't be getting intoxicated until tonight."

"Did they have some sort of liquor ban there?" Meva did not go to Kilika often, but she was knowledgeable enough to know that it had at least one bar.

Carter sighed forlornly. "I spent the first two nights with my parents, and my mum's crazy-strict about that sort of stuff. The third night I spent looking for Gippal, who decided to do a runner and my entire evening yesterday was spent trying to put out a fire and not be killed. Oh, and arresting people who're already supposed to be in jail. Fun, I know."

"It was a rough night for everyone, then." Meva slumped back down on the desk, cursing the clock that told her she only had five more minutes of free time left.

"At least Habe's dealing with Gippal now. Looking after that nut job's like managing a small child."

"That was nice of you, leaving your superior to look after a 'nut job'." Meva smirked to herself, knowing Carter would hate to be reminded that he was the lowest ranked officer in their team. That he had become Macaro's protégé had given him an unfounded level of confidence, much to the amusement of the older members.

A slight mark of indignation left Carter's lips before he became aware of her game. Pretending not to hear, he changed his gaze to the lunch menu. "He's gonna question Gippal in about an hour or so. Properly, this time. Hopefully."

"Hopefully? Not doubting the DCI already, are you?" Meva shook her head; kids these days thought they knew it all.

Carter sighed, wishing he hadn't said anything. "No, I just mean… The whole deal with Lucil. Even before we found out about the Jyu-on card, he was… he didn't even suspect Gippal! What's up with that? He asked him about it, sure, but Gippal denied knowing about it and he believed him straight away. He dropped it just like that. It was weird."

Meva shuffled about on her chair; this was a little more than awkward. "Well, I guess he had his reasons. If he dropped it so easily he probably thought there was no evidence that Gippal killed Lucil in the first place. Making a call on that sort've thing's… difficult."

"Or he's avoiding it." Carter muttered. However quietly, it had to be said.

"Oh, you don't think…" Meva almost couldn't believe what she was hearing from Carter, who was supposed to have so much faith in his mentor. Almost.

"You mean the Kacia case? Come on, Hazu, you can't deny the similarities."

Meva could hear herself growl in frustration; Carter was too young to be bringing up that case. He knew nothing about it. "Similarities, yeah, I suppose, but… Just no! That was ages ago now and a completely different situation. The DCI doesn't make mistakes that often, you know. Why don't you trust his judgement?"

Carter felt frustrated as well, "I'm just saying; what if? Sure, we've had murder cases since then, but it's still gotta be fresh in his memory. And if it is, it'd explain why he's been skirting around asking Gippal all the hard questions. If we want a motive we need to do more than have friendly chats with him."

"Oh, that's enough!" Meva hissed, trying not to raise her voice too high in a manner that would get the attention of those around them. "Alright, maybe he is being cautious after what happened to Kacia, but come on. That was a one off. Don't talk about things you don't even know about. We all felt guilty about it, but we learnt from it and moved on. That's what you do, and it's no different for Macaro."

"Say what you want, I still think it's a possibility. Even if it's not true, I'm not going back down. I almost got a confession out of Gippal once and I'm not going to stop until he gets sent down for good." Carter rose from his chair with vigour, causing it to fall over, and stormed out of the room.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Carter thundered down the corridor from the canteen, heading towards the lift that would take him to the CID office on the 3rd floor. He was seething, full in the knowledge that Meva had not taken him seriously because he was young. Sure, he hadn't even been a police officer six years ago when the original case had gone on but he'd read about it in the press. Sarah Kacia had been your average forty-something in Luca, owning a small café in the town centre with her husband. Average until she was arrested for stabbing her teenage son and husband while they slept. Her café, 'Casacada', had gone into debt and she was supposed to have blamed her husband for trying to bankrupt her on purpose after an affair.

The case had been heavily publicised but was over quite soon after. The Luca CID had gotten a successful conviction in record time. They had the murder weapon, suspect, motive and witnesses that the Kacia had argued with her husband that night. Although her son's body had never been recovered, there was enough blood in his room to suggest he met a similar fate to his father. Kacia had denied it until the very last day of her trial when, too ill with grief, her lawyers decided for her that she would confess. It was this last minute confession that had spared her the death penalty and given her a life sentence. At the time, CID efficiency and teamwork was being applauded and it had been seen as a great day for justice. Over time, the circus surrounding the case died down and people almost forgot it.

Almost. Three years later and Sarah Kacia was in the news again, but for very different reasons. Overcome by her own guilt, she had hung herself in her cell. Old memories of the case resurfaced and old family friends chastised her cowardice. The public reaction was unsympathetic to her until one week later, when the body of a man known only as Terral was found hanging from a rope bridge at the old Remiem Temple. Usually disserted, the Temple had been undergoing renovations that year and was to become a grand hotel for tourists staying in the Calm Lands, so his body was almost sure to be found. Entering the lift, Carter was sure that, in the end, Terral had planned it that way.

Despite all its festivities, the Calm Lands had become popular with those seeking suicide because of its large chasms and deserted, rambling countryside. For this reason, at first the discovery of a dead body had just been bad publicity for Argent Inc., who were the company trying to launch the hotel. Then the suicide note had been found, and its contents had grave consequences for Macaro and his team. In the letter, Terral had confessed to the murders of Sarah Kacia's son and husband and gave details on where he had buried the young man's body. He went on to say that the police were right to suspect that one of the Kacia parents had had an affair, but they had gotten the wrong one. Sarah Kacia had had an affair with Terral during a rough patch in her marriage, but rejected him when she reconciled with her husband. After enduring five years of unrequited love, Terral had decided to remove the obstacles that prevented him being with the woman he loved but was horrified when she was convicted instead. Without the courage to confess himself, for fear she would hate him, Terral had vowed to wait for her to be released on good behaviour be it ten, twenty or even thirty years later. When she hung herself, he had no more reason to live and had decided to clear her name. Such a twisted devotion even now could still make Carter shiver.

Three years ago, he was a new uniform officer fresh out of the academy, full with the enthusiasm to follow in his father's footsteps and become a DCI of the CID. Having known his father, DCI Macaro had befriended him and helped him integrate into the way of life at Luca Police, so far from his home in Bevelle. Carter remembered the night the news of Terral's letter reached Luca from Bevelle. He had just come off shift with his partner, PC Davies, when the he had heard every other officer whisper about it. It was the gossip of the day; the highly respected DCI Brenden Macaro had messed up. Messed up big time. What made it worse for the DCI, Carter found out later, was that Kacia had named Terral to Macaro as the culprit. She had been adamant that it was him and that she was innocent. She had told him how Terral had harassed her family and was the cause of her café's debts because he had been threatening her customers. And he hadn't listened to her. Macaro had said he was too convinced that Kacia was guilty; he had made up his mind and was going to get his conviction if it was the last thing he did. He was so convinced that he didn't even do a simple background check on Terral, who the Kacias had complained about to the LPD previously.

Carter knew, as well as the whole of the LPD, how it had devastated Macaro. He held himself personally responsible for Sarah Kacia's death and took an extended holiday soon after. Habe had later told him that no one in CID had held it against Macaro and that it was they who insisted he take a break. Even after such a mistake, they still believed in him enough to know he was strong enough to move on from it. And he had, for the last three years, as far as all could see. Then the Okinoko case had happened. Its similarities to the Kacia case had never been voiced in public, but Carter could be sure that it had crossed the minds of every member of CID in private. Especially Macaro; and that's what was worrying him. Brendan Macaro was a strong, reliable and slightly proud man, but this didn't mean he could not have weaknesses. It was this weakness over Gippal that bothered Carter the most. If his DCI would not interrogate him properly, then how would he ever prove Gippal had committed the murders?

Carter stepped out of the lift and into CID offices. He could see Leda and Jackson in Macaro's office, no doubt discussing the Jyu-on situation. While there was a chance that Gippal Okinoko could get away with the murders of Lady Rikku and her daughter, Carter would not rest. This was what being a police officer was all about, what he had been brought up on; those who were guilty must pay for their crimes. He would make sure Gippal paid for his.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was not for the first time that Baralai, being made to wait an unreasonable amount of time for some service, was aware he was glancing at that single singed lock of hair on Tidus's head. The uneven way that the blonde's hair now fell at the front was downright comical looking to Paine, and she had voiced it many times since they had left Luca. Baralai, on the other hand, had thought he had no opinion on it, until he found himself staring at it at regular intervals without noticing. Someone who had noticed was, of course, Tidus, who had before taken great pride in his perfectly cut locks and had taken it as a personal insult when the fire had singed him. The Blitzer was giving him that same Yuna-esque gaze of disapproval right now. Baralai could feel the sides of his mouth twitching and thought it a better idea to look away rather than cause a scene. Paine and Tidus had caused quite enough drama over that piece of hair for one day.

Baralai looked across the room and out the window. When in Guadosalam, it was impossible to tell what the weather outside was like. Not that the weather in the Thunder Plains ever changed. Even so, Baralai imagined the sun would be setting, as it was dawning on 5pm. The closer they approached the winter months, the earlier Baralai could watch the marmalade-coloured sun set. It was a small and trivial thing, but something he enjoyed doing. He was a great believer that the tiny details were what made life worth living. He wondered what the bookshop they were in would look like had he been able to see the sky; what curious colour of orange the bell Tidus was incessantly ringing would turn had it sunlight to reflect.

After what seemed an eternity, a short Guado man, who looked the same age as Tidus, shuffled out from the back with a sour expression. "Finally." Tidus exclaimed, putting his hand behind his head and smirking.

"What do you want?" The man hissed, looking at the three with great suspicion. "We're closing soon."

"Since we've been made to wait all this time," Baralai began, slowly his speech down to give the young man time to catch on, "I think it's only fair you hear us out."

He saw it click. He saw the horrified, dawning look on the man's face as he recognised Baralai's voice and what it meant. He saw that look of surprise and fear as the young man stared him in the eyes, almost ignoring Tidus restraining him and Paine knocking him out. Which was just as well, because Baralai had recognised his voice too.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It had been a quiet night for Gippal, considering all that had happened. His transfer from Dona's house to the ferry that would take him to Luca had gone without a hitch after Macaro had explained to the crowd that he was merely a fugitive that they had caught and were in the process of extraditing. Now, they were on the ferry and would arrive in Luca within a couple of hours. Gippal paid the doctor examining him no mind and stared, almost hypnotised, by the sun setting over the sea. Wouldn't Rikku have loved to see it? For their third date, Gippal had taken Rikku to Besaid by one of his still prototyped airships. After spending the day they returned to Luca via the ferry, where he had given the pilot instructions to pick them up. Gippal smiled to himself; if he closed his eyes, it was just like that time and she was still there. In many ways, the scenario was similar; the gentle warmth lingering on his eyelid, his slow and steady breathing intertwining with the sound of the rolling waves and distant sea birds.

There was a loud explosion from the deck above. Gippal chuckled to himself, supposing not all things could be similar to his time with Rikku.


	18. Consort of Vision

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I wish I had a fan. Heat waves at 70 degrees for the win, as all the cool kids would say.

Author's Notes: Ciz recently came to the conclusion that her brain is completely non-linear. The day one chapter of this fic, she says, reads in a chronological order of events, hell would have frozen over. Or, Maghera, to be specific. So, to go with her new-found non-linear theme, Ciz has decided that the events in this chapter will happen before most of the events in the last chapter. It makes no sense, but she says it will explain why she was singeing so many people.

**XVIII. Consort of Vision**

The sun was low in the sky by the time their ferry to Luca had arrived. Beneath deck, Carter, Macaro and Gippal all sat in the cargo bay in silence. There was nothing to discuss, as far as Macaro was concerned. Carter, on the other hand, couldn't help staring at Gippal, who was in turn staring at Macaro, who was engrossed in an evening paper. How could he forget about all that had happened in that room at the Youth League? The least he deserved was an explanation, but Gippal was not forthcoming. Not that he'd had the chance to ask. For some reason, a voice in the back of his head told him it was better to not discuss such a thing in front of Macaro. He could think of no reason why he shouldn't, other than the fact that it would be uncomfortable. Why it should be uncomfortable, Carter didn't want to think about.

In the end, he wouldn't have to discover the reason, as Macaro's phone began to ring. A quick peek at it confirmed to Carter that it was Keota calling, probably for her report. Unless somebody had burned down the Machine Faction. Carter tried not to laugh; he'd better not jinx it. With a slight nod Macaro left the room, and somehow the awkward silence which had engulfed them when there were three intensified when they became two. Carter was staring at Gippal again, and Gippal at his feet.

"How did you know?" Gippal blurted out, breaking the silence. Not for the first time had he unsettled Carter. "How did you know that I never meant to jump?"

It was Carter's turn to regret his words; he had told Macaro that this was the impression he had got from Gippal, not aware that he had been overheard. He had thought Gippal wasn't listening when he zoned out like that, but he seemed to be wrong. Gippal had eavesdropped more than he thought, but it shouldn't have surprised him. They were both there in the room; Carter had seen him fall, against his own intention, when he looked back on it. Why had it bothered him so much?

He chose to remain nonchalant about the whole affair. "Could tell by your face, I suppose."

Gippal shook his head. "But you weren't there. How could you tell by my face… don't tell me you're a mind reader."

"What?" Carter could almost see the sense in their conversation fly out the window. "I so was."

Gippal frowned. "I think I would've remembered if you'd been there."

"And I think I'd remember if I hadn't." Carter glared at the Al Bhed; he was doing this to screw with him, wasn't he? "Why, did you see a ghost?"

Gippal hugged his left leg, transfixed on just that foot now. "Maybe I did. Would explain the random shouting and invisible grabbing."

It was Carter's turn to frown; he was definitely trying to screw with him. "Right. So you're going with that excuse. Fine."

"An excuse for what? I was just trying to defend myself against that maniac!" Gippal snapped, breaking the mood.

"What maniac? Your ghost friend?"

"No, not the ghost, I mean the other guy…"

"What other guy? There was no one there except for me and you!" Carter felt a headache coming on.

Gippal stammered for a moment, switching his gaze between Carter and his foot several times. He seemed to find his voice when he fixed his eyes on the floor. "If there was no one else there, then… Were you the one who, you know, tried to grab me?"

"If by grab you mean tried to stop your sorry ass from jumping, then yes, that was me." The connotation of Gippal's words hit him, and Carter could not help notice his suspect was trying to gnaw his way through his own thumb. "Wait, so how did you mistake me for a ghost?"

Gippal shrugged. "Just didn't see you, I guess."

"Who did you see, then?"

"Doesn't matter now." Gippal was hugging both legs now, not far off a foetal position. "What about Baralai? Dona said he's been ill."

"Yeah, that's what New Yevon's saying. Just a load of Praetor-loving women freaking out, s'all." Carter remembered how he had been just a little bit creeped out when he had first heard the Praetor had disappeared. No sooner had Gippal asked Macaro to check up on him had the rumours surfaced of his disappearance and possible death. Then again, the way he had mentioned someone would have had to have broken into the Praetor's apartments to get that photo album and then the Praetor had taken ill straight after. "Do you know something I don't?"

"I have a right to be worried." Gippal muttered, shivering. Carter could sympathise; the ship was supposed to be thoroughly heated, and yet he could still feel the cold seep in through his toes.

"Right, whatever… But if it wasn't me you freaked out for, who was it?"

Gippal didn't seem to hear his words or even those of Doctor Aube as he called the Machine Faction leader for a check-up. The doctor and two other medical looking people came to retrieve Gippal, expecting such a response, or lack of one. But then the Al Bhed shot his head up, looking at Carter with an almost smile.

"Oh, that's right!" Aube's two assistants hoisted Gippal up by his arms, but allowed him to lean over and whisper in Carter's ear, "I know who did it. I know who the murderer is."

"What?" Carter blinked several times, trying to comprehend it. Was he about to get a confession? By the time he regained himself, Gippal had almost escaped into the medical room. "Wait a minute; I still have to question him!"

He was over there like a shot, but was flat out denied by Dr. Aube's curt and professional gaze. "This won't take long, whatever it is can wait. You're not allowed to interview a suspect under duress, anyway. I would consider you impeding my patient of treatment to do so a violation of this."

"But you don't understand!" Carter could feel his frustration rising; this was his chance! His chance to get a confession from Gippal and end all of this; and there was this idiot, standing in his way! "This is more important than that!"

"No." With that, Aube slammed the door in his face. Carter could not hold back from shouting at and banging on the door. The stupid old fool! How dare he get in the way of what may be his finest hour as a member of CID yet? Macaro would promote him for sure if he got Gippal to confess and yet he was being denied. It wasn't fair.

As it turned out, he was making enough noise to attract the attention of his superior officer from outside. After a few minutes of angry protests, Macaro entered the room, demanding to know what all the fuss was about.

"We're trying to keep a low profile, remember?" Macaro berated with a scowl, noting his subordinate's fidgeting. "You shouting your lungs out doesn't help. You'd better have a good reason, you hear me?"

Carter grinned despite himself. "You bet I do."

Before he could get his good reason out, however, he was cut off by a large explosion up on the deck. Without a word, the two officers ran full speed out to the surface; Carter decided his exciting news would just have to wait.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Leaving Gippal in Carter's capable hands, Macaro exited the room a little worried. Keota was not supposed to give her report for another two days; that she was calling him early didn't bode well.

"What's happened?" He muttered, checking the empty corridor for signs of life.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" He noted her hesitance over the word 'good'.

"Bad." There was no point beating around the bush, after all.

"Well, you see, thing is… my cover's been blown. But…" On the other end of the line, Macaro could imagine Keota cringing; it was something that she only did when on the phone, for one reason or another.

"But?" Macaro was trying to keep his voice steady; it had better be a good but, or else Keota would back in Luca so fast…

"Only one person knows and he won't let on, promise." The he part bothered Macaro; she was a woman, after all…

"How can you be sure?"

"Well, that's where the good part comes in; He gave me some very interesting information about the Machine Faction."

"Which is?"

"Apparently, for three days after the murders, there was a self-imposed embargo on the Machine Faction by their governing board. And we're not talking about press-control; we're talking blocking media resources and keeping people penned in. More than a little suspicious, right?"

"I suppose." Come to think of it, he had never spoken to anyone outside of official spokespersons on his visits to the Machine Faction. Then again, it could have been a very effective measure for damage-control. "But it could have been because that board suspected that the killer was an employee. Before we got evidence for Gippal, it's reasonable to say anyone could have been the suspect."

"They didn't explain it like that, though; they didn't explain anything, and fired people who questioned them. It's probably like you said, but something just… doesn't seem right about the way they handled it. It was enough to stir up some major distrust in the Faction, so maybe there's some back story ZT didn't tell me about."

"ZT?" Macaro severed any sort of deep thought he was putting into the information. She had to be kidding him if she thought he was going to believe anything that came out of that boy's mouth ever again. "You told him you were a police officer?"

"Oh, hear me out! And I didn't tell him, he found out himself. Sounds like Meva and Jackson stopped off at the Kioku when they were showing those stupid holiday photos."

"If he recognised you from that, he's taken his time to approach you about it. Seems suspicious. What proof does he have about all this, anyway?"

"Well, none so far, but…"

Macaro could feel his blood pressure rising, but tried not to sound it. "So, ZT approaches you with far-fetched information that he can't even prove, tells you he knows who you really are and that he hasn't told anyone… and you believed him? I thought you were smarter than that, Lynn."

"You think I haven't been cautious about the whole thing?" Keota snapped back, giving off a sense that she knew he was going to react the way he did. Macaro hated the thought that he was predictable. "Look, I think he's telling the truth. Besides, he said something else, more along the lines of his last official visit."

"The residue left on the body? I was about to give up on it; I suppose that damned kid is all we have to rely on, with Zach taking a holiday to Guadosalam. Now of all times."

"Precisely that. ZT said he analysed the residue and its composition matched that of dimemoric aquate, the main ingredient in identicate dresspheres."

The surroundings went quiet, save someone shouting something from deeper within the ship. "You've got to be kidding me."

"It's what he said. Personally, I don't get how it would even be possible without the sphere element, but… he said it might mean the bodies we picked up at the Okinoko house weren't them."

"For once I hope he's not lying, though I don't have much confidence."

"It's just a theory at the minute; ZT said we'd have to check with Terachi Shinra to see if it was possible, but he doesn't know where he is."

Macaro sighed. "I'm not so sure about all this. Give me one good reason that Hutuc isn't in on this already."

"I don't have one, but in this place, gossip travels fast. If anyone in the Faction were looking for Shinra, I'd have heard about it by now."

"I still don't trust him after the camera stunt he pulled; for all we know it could be another Machine Faction trap. Hutuc's probably told him to get information on our investigation. The Machine Faction would try and compromise our case if they found out all we know."

"I know, but, I got the impression a long time ago that ZT's really trying to impress Hutuc. If he'd wanted to do that, he could have given me up and got his reward. And besides, Hutuc heads up the Faction's governing board; if he's willing to grass his old man up, it's got to count for something, right?"

"It certainly does; if ZT wants to impress his father as badly as you say, then that makes giving him any unnecessary information even more risky. If he could bring down our entire investigation in one fell swoop, I'd dare say Hutuc would the most impressed man this side of the Moonflow."

"You're not even going to look into it? Not to check?"

Macaro sighed. "We need to follow up as many lines of inquiry as we can, yes, but that doesn't mean I have to trust him." He looked at the door of the room he had just left. What was Carter so up in arms about? They were trying to keep a low profile, for Shiva's sake! "Don't tell him any more than you need to."

"So you'll at least run the info by Zach?"

"Alright, I'll ask him. But if he's says it's a load of Shoopuf shit, as I suspect it is, I'm pulling you from the Faction."

"And if it's true?"

"If Zach says your little friend's being honest with us, for once, then we'll find Shinra. In the mean time, you need to keep on Hutuc and ZT; if they put one foot out of line, you tell me at once."

"Alright, but listen… huh?" Keota sounded distracted, and then Macaro could only hear some muffled Al Bhed, "_Oh, ed'c so vydran. Ra'c so Yevonite ceta, yvdan ymm. E'mm pa drana eh y caluht… _I need to go. I'll call if anything comes up."

With Keota gone and a whole new situation to ruminate, Macaro decided to go and tell off Carter for making so much noise. It would make him feel better.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

When they reached the deck, there were screaming people and fires; two of Carter's most hated things. Some of the armed guard of uniforms had followed them up, the others had stayed to guard Gippal. Whoever it was knew how to make a scene. He and Macaro hadn't to wait long before they found the source of all the attention seeking; a young Al Bhed woman holding a bomb in one hand and a gun to the head of a passenger in the other. Carter felt almost instant déjà vu.

"Took you long enough," she jeered though maniacal laughter.

"Naema Tullah!" Macaro exclaimed under his breath. Hadn't he heard that name before? She'd been the one who blew up Luca General, that was it. This girl clearly had issues with explosives. "On your own this time, are you?"

Naema sneered. "Not quite. My mistake last time was using human help; totally inefficient. So I thought to myself; what's the easiest way to kill a lot of people that isn't Sin? And then I remembered how Home was destroyed."

A wave of unease swept over Carter hot and thick; perhaps it had something to do with the Dual Horn that was breathing down his neck. He took a tentative look at Macaro, who had a similar fiend behind him. He looked irritated, and Carter could have sworn he heard him mutter something about his being too old for this. He, on the other hand, was just grateful he'd remembered his gun, unlike one fateful training session in the Macalania Woods when he was still a cadet. He still had the scar on his thigh from that particular Chimera; he was not too keen on the idea of getting another one.

So caught up in her moment of glory, Naema failed to notice her captive slipping out of her grasp. Nobody else noticed either; save for a young, blonde Blitzball player, standing above deck to watch what was unfolding below.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Below deck, Gippal was lead into the medical room by two heavies. He was only intending to half co-operate. After all, they had annoyed him. Just as he had remembered to tell that obnoxious police officer about the stranger he had seen in Kilika, he was pulled in by the doctor. Talk about timing. The room had a strange but pleasant orange glow to it, and somehow it comforted him. He couldn't, however, help flinching when Dr. Aube touched his head to check on the bruises. He had a killer headache and felt feverish; the last thing he wanted was someone poking around his forehead. He always seemed to have a dry throat as well, no matter how much water he drank. On one of the slower days back in the hospital, he had theorised he had contracted rabies and that was why he was there. Far-fetched as it was, he would far rather go back to that time than be where he was now.

"Gippal?" He was brought out of his trance-like state to see Dr. Aube hovering in front of his face. Close-up, Gippal could surmise that he was not just ugly, but quite old as well. Almost as old as Hutuc. "Do you mind if I ask you some things before I continue with the examination?"

Gippal blinked. "What kind of things?"

Dr. Aube smiled, brushing away Gippal's concerns with a swift hand movement. "Ah, nothing much. A bit of procedure, is all."

"Oh." Gippal squirmed in his seat despite himself; the heavies were looking at him funny. It didn't help his nerves that they had white coats on.

"Do you have a good memory, Gippal?" Dr. Aube asked, rummaging about in a small cupboard.

Gippal frowned; he was getting a bad vibe already. "It's average, I suppose."

"What about after the coma; any differences?" He sounded amiable enough.

He shrugged. "The first few days are a bit of a blank. And after Macaro told me about… yeah, no idea what I did then either."

Aube returned to the surface, grin still intact. "I wouldn't worry about that, it's quite normal after such an event." He shuffled a few pieces of paper in his hands; Gippal still felt unsettled. "What about yesterday? What did you do while I was away?"

"Not much." That is, he couldn't remember much of it. "Slept for most of the day."

"Until you decided to jump out the window?" Dr Aube was looking almost fatherly now.

Gippal eyed the heavies again. "Yeah."

"What did you have to eat that day?"

"I didn't have anything."

Aube tisked at him, this time reminding Gippal of his mother. "Didn't I tell you to eat well? You won't get any better starving yourself."

Gippal pouted in response. "I just wasn't hungry. Didn't do enough, I suppose."

"And I wonder why you didn't have the energy to do anything." Gippal rolled his eye; it was like being a teenager all over again. "But they must have brought food up to you. What did they bring?"

"I don't know." Gippal hissed, crossing his arms, despite his efforts to try and not sound like all those girls he dated when he was younger. "I wasn't paying attention to stuff like that."

"A bit forgetful, aren't we?" Aube then handed him a sheet with various words in large fonts. House, tree, water, chocobo, monkey, forest, sand, home, family… There were more, but he didn't care. Gippal glanced up at Aube. "Just look at it for a minute."

"I haven't lost the ability to read," he replied with a frown. Gippal did not appreciate being treated like a child.

"I wouldn't have expected you to." The doctor's voice was sounding more and more patronising the more he thought about it.

Gippal looked down at the page again. House, tree, chocobo… He looked out the window. Something about the view was very familiar. Where had he seen something like this before?

"Not very good at concentrating, I see." Gippal looked sheepish, despite his inner indignance. He was perfectly capable of concentrating on things that interested him; the ever increasing overtones of school were irritating. "Try this page."

The second page had all different words on it; Homeless, vegetation, fire, chocobo, person, desert, holiday, family… This was pointless.

"Do you recognise any of the words?"

"I do pretty much speak like a native now," Gippal snapped, glaring at the doctor. This was getting downright insulting; even he could see these were basic words.

"No, I mean are any of the words the same as those on the first sheet?"

Gippal paused, blinked, and then looked back down at his sheet. Homeless, no. Vegetation, no. Fire, no. Chocobo, no. Person, no. Desert? Gippal cursed his own inattention, before deciding it had not been on the list. What was all this about, anyway? Holiday, no. Family… the word stuck in his inner voice as if he had said it aloud, on for it to be caught in his throat. It must be the repeated word. He held up the page with his finger on it, as if the word itself was too infectious to speak.

"Is that all?" Aube asked, quieter this time. Gippal nodded, catching the doctor frown ever so slightly. "Do you remember most of the words on the first sheet?"

Gippal shrugged; this was getting old fast. "House… monkey. Water… um…"

"I would have preferred it if you'd paid more attention."

"What's up with this anyway?" Gippal was tired of all this questioning. He might as well be at the police station already.

"Procedure, as I said."

"Procedure for what, exactly?"

"Well… your medical records from Luca said you claimed to have no recollection of what happened on the night of those… unfortunate events. They did numerous tests while you were in a coma, to check for brain damage and so on, but since they didn't find anything out of the ordinary, Dr. Abuja summarised that if you did have amnesia, there was most likely a psychological cause."

Gippal frowned. "You're trying to prove I'm faking it, aren't you?"

"Always a possibility." The doctor was trying to look apologetic, but Gippal wasn't quite ready to forgive him. "In any case, I only have one last set of questions for you. Tell me, what do you remember about the day of the murders as a whole? What did you do before it happened?"

"We went to a restaurant." Gippal was tentative with his answer; the less he had to think about it, the better.

"What for, was it a special occasion?"

Gippal shrugged. "Not really, we just went out for a meal every now and then."

"I see. Do you remember the name of the restaurant, or where it was?"

Gippal hesitated; there was a growing, insisting disquiet rising within him. "Well, no but… it was probably one in Djose or near the Moonflow."

"Why do you say that?"

"I drove home, so it couldn't have been far, right?"

"Tell me, what else did you do that day? Before the restaurant, that is."

It took Gippal several seconds of silence to realise he was gnawing at his thumb; a childhood habit he had never seemed to kick. He gave another shrug as a response. He hadn't realised until now that he couldn't remember that entire day. He supposed he'd never really had cause to think about it.

"I see. Now, if you could look at this." Dr. Aube handed Gippal a sheet with a set of figures on it. They were the sort of mathematical equations he had to do all the time and he recognised his own handwriting. The date written in scrawled pencil on the bottom was ominous at best. "It was given to me by the courtesy of your comrades at the Machine Faction. According to them, you wrote this just before you left work on the day you seem to have forgotten. You said that it was an idea that had just come to you that day and that it was unlike any of your previous work. Well now, does this ring any bells with you?"

Gippal examined the figures, tracing the lines of the small, unfinished sketch he had made, trying to find meaning in the single word he'd written on the top of the page, _nayldun_. He could only assume the doctor was giving him this to see if he could trigger a flashback, that perhaps this piece of paper would somehow coax his memory out of the black hole it had jumped into. But there was nothing. As far as his brain was concerned, this was the first time he'd seen it.

Reading his blank look, Dr. Aube handed Gippal a pencil, given to him by one of the heavies that he had almost forgotten. "If you don't remember, then perhaps you could complete that diagram for me? I'm told you'd be able to do it with the data provided."

Gippal looked down at the figures. He supposed he could draw it, whatever the point of it was now. Or at least, he thought he could. When it got down to the actual practice, he found himself unable. Reading the figures, he had been planning a reactor for something. The figures all described the thing he was intending to make, and yet he couldn't even visualise it. Even though the shape and dimensions had been noted, the simple, basic image was not there. Gippal could in all honesty not even begin to imagine what the thing could look like. He could imagine himself building the thing, what methods he could use, what location in the Faction's many buildings would be suitable for constructing something like that. Even the best materials he could use came to him with such ease… but he could not fit them all together. It was if they were all pieces of a jigsaw, but he had lost the elemental parts. The small yet significant components that linked everything together.

Although Gippal hadn't noticed it, his hands had begun to shake. The thought that he could not visualise a machine disturbed him. Wasn't it the very essence of his work? He had always sussed out designs in his head before putting them to paper. True, he hated doing schematics, but most of the time he wrote out good enough so that he could do exactly what he had been failing to do. Gippal had a habit of coming up with ideas, making notes similar to the ones right in front of him, and then forgetting them. He then usually found them several weeks later, read them and was able to pick it up from where he had left off. He had always believed that he could get away with his nonchalant personality, provided he was prepared for it.

"You're having difficulty?" Dr. Aube looked more concerned now. He set a hand on Gippal's shoulder, making him aware of his own shaking. "Or perhaps it's that you can't visualise its future?" Gippal could only nod in reply; Aube's choice of wording worried him. "Interesting. Well, Gippal, that's all I require of you as far as the psychological aspects go. No doubt Dr. Abuja will be pleased to have the information passed on to him when we arrive in Luca.

Aube then continued on with his physical examination and Gippal decided he didn't want to think about it. Accepting that you can't remember one of the most important and life-changing nights of your life was one thing, but not being able to picture something that you had done everyday for years with ease? It was downright scary. Gippal gazed out upon the sea outside the window, that beautiful orange sun. To his luck, he found its distractions most hypnotic.

On first hearing the explosion, it didn't register with Gippal that something quite significant was happening. On one of the heavies' reaction to it, tackling him and telling him to stay on the ground, Gippal decided that he ought to pay more attention to what was going on.

"What's going on?" He heard Aube mutter, still audible above the loud screams from above.

"One of the engines could have blown," the heavy that wasn't holding him suggested.

"But the engine room's next to this one," replied the heavy that was holding him down, "the explosion came from above."

"Got a better suggestion, then?"

As it turned out, they didn't need one. For a moment, everything seemed to have gone quiet, and then the window had smashed. Glass scattered everywhere, and when he looked up from behind his shielding arms he could see an Evil Eye floating with menace above him. No sooner had he felt the pressure on his body lifted than the fiend burst into pyreflies. The heavy that had been on top of him had dealt with the fiend.

"An Evil Eye this far out?" Aube mumbled to himself. "Something's definitely wrong here."

There was a sudden, violent banging at the door and the howls of Chimeras filled the room. Gippal was now very glad that Aube had locked the door to keep that young police officer out. He doubted, though, that the door would resist fiends like that for long. The two heavies readied themselves by the door; what they lacked in medical experience, they made up for with brute force. Dr Aube cast a Great Barrier, 'for good measure'.

"When we clear the first couple of fiends," the heavy that had held Gippal down began, "you two make a run for the deck. We're like sitting ducks if we're in an enclosed space like this."

Aube nodded, staying close to Gippal. Gippal breathed out; having been trained as a soldier to fight Sin all those years ago, being so vulnerable to a few minor fiends was almost intolerable. If it had been any other situation he would have been standing with those men, Taydrpnehkan in hand. As it was, he was no more useful than a child. Helpless to defend anyone. In a way, he always had been.

From the moment that the door burst open, to his confused darting in the bay areas, to the moment when Aube desperately shoved him out, it all seemed like a blur. Perhaps it was the rush of blood from the sudden movement that made him feel nauseous and dizzy, but whatever it was, Gippal barely knew what he was doing. Until he felt the cold, hard planks of wood that lined the top deck collide with his face, sending him spiralling back into reality, and consequently out of it. It was almost as if he was floating above everyone; people ran around screaming, the police battling to protect them, a familiar Al Bhed woman laughing her heart out in the middle of it. It was as if the people were in perpetual motion, except for himself, who floated in mid-air, as if set in stone. Him, and the young man staring up at him from above the deck. Despite the chaos below, he remained still, gazing into Gippal's eyes, as if he could see straight through to his soul. As if he could see the memories that his brain had locked away two months ago, in the deepest recesses of his mind.

The moment passed and he came crashing back down to the present. His limbs felt numb, but Gippal took the risk of trying to get up. Staying there would be dangerous; as if he cared, really, but it was the idea. He had made it to his hands and knees when the Bomb spotted him. It hovered over him with a sinister sort of serenity, considering if he was even worth killing. The horrible sneer that all of its brood shared seemed to double in size; it swung backwards, anticipating its easy victory. Gippal looked towards the wood, not wanting to see. He'd had a bad enough time imagining the face of death since his family had gone, he didn't feel he could stomach looking it in the face. Maybe once, but not now. He was a man defeated; a man so pathetic as to meet his end with such a vile creature, not even putting up a fight.

Gippal could feel the rush of cold air over his head as the Bomb rushed towards him, but its impact never came. He was confused and somewhat annoyed. Why, when for the first time he had been semi-able to accept his own death, had it not come. All that expectation was for nothing? Had he not even been worth a fiend's time to kill? He looked skyward and emerging from the pyreflies was a face. Black hair, green, non-swirled eyes, narrow face… no one he knew.

No one he thought he knew.

And yet there was a pang of familiarity in the back of his mind. The way the man held the blade-tipped pole he had defeated the fiend with, his stance… the look of faint recognition as he looked down on him. But he couldn't recognise him, not as he was. Perhaps his dressphere identity was the spitting image of someone this person knew. That pang of familiarity again as he met the man's gaze full on. What was it? More to the point, who was it? In his confused state, his mind would not work, it wouldn't connect with the past. Maybe that's what the doctor had been getting at. He was disconnected; the world was moving around him, it had left him behind. He was so out of touch that no one cared anymore. Such a solitary feeling, and yet… he could almost see the man above him felt the same. There was a connection. A connection he didn't understand. A connection that would probably never make sense, given the path he had chosen…

The other man seemed to notice he was staring, muttered a quick apology and left. The moment had passed. If his reaction was anything to go by, he had been just as confused as Gippal was. Gippal collapsed back onto the deck. He could just give up, couldn't he? No one would notice, or care. Fiends and people alike ran past, not in the slightest bit concerned for him. Knowing that someone, somewhere, in the whole of Spira cared… Gippal had never before understood what was important about that. It seemed too sappy and sentimental. Take that away, however, and this was what he'd got. Something entirely pathetic. Either Gippal was falling for all of Lady Yuna's "power of love" girly crap, or he was just a weak person. An infuriating combination of both, probably.

He couldn't give up now, anyway. Not after all this. Hadn't he decided when Nooj had attacked him to get his revenge and then worry about his life later? That towering wall in his mind, the one that barricaded him off from his old life. On the other side of that wall was no doubt his family. Was no doubt Rikku and Roxy. Hadn't he decided, if they'd wait for him, he'd be alright? And what of his friends? Would they be there, too? Gippal couldn't help feel abandoned. Hutuc had promised to visit, but hadn't bothered. Nooj had tried to be supportive, but had gotten sick of him in the end. Baralai and Paine… it was almost as if they no longer existed in the same world. Their physical presence was missing, but their spirits seemed to dance close to him although they never approached. Maybe tomorrow, he could meet them. Meet them all in some strange sort of in-between. That place he had seen in his dreams.

Until he could connect with his life again, Gippal had nothing.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

It was difficult, and he had been singed by several Megiddo Flames, but Carter had managed to fend off the Chimeras with just a knife, good luck and minor bleeding. Although it seemed Naema hadn't been caught yet, she had slipped away during the ensuing fiend chaos, at least the fiends seemed to be lessening in number. A few Shahagins had jumped up from the ocean and tried to join the party, but Naema's fiends didn't seem to be able to discern human from 'friend' and the Shahagins seemed to take it as a personal insult. That the fiends had started slaughtering each other instead of the people was some relief. Now that he had a few seconds to breathe, Carter could begin worrying about Dr. Aube and Gippal. Those medical assistants had looked pretty beefy, but in such a tight space. His heart half froze when he then spotted Gippal lying lifeless by the entrance to the under ship. If that bastard had gotten himself killed before he could get a conviction…

At that moment, however, Gippal seemed to start picking himself off the deck. He had probably just knocked himself out or something. He was moving, anyway, which Carter took as a sign that he was alive. It was good enough for him. Separated from his DCI and with a villain obsessed with explosives and killing his suspect, Carter decided this was not shaping up to be one of his better days. He cast Blizzard on a couple of nearby Bombs, saving a very attractive looking woman. Had he not been on duty, Carter would have counted himself luckier that it was common practice in Bevelle to teach children basic magic. Moving on…

He didn't have to look far to spot Naema again. Frustrated by the fact that not only were her fiends not very effective, but that she couldn't find Gippal either, she had decided to get her own hands dirty. But picking on children and newbie uniforms? That was just cruel. Carter gripped his knife tighter; a gun was all well and good for long-range apprehending of a suspect, but when you got down to it, the ammo issue was impractical. Why use weapons that become useless so quickly? Appropriate for dealing with people, maybe, but fiends? The things were hopeless! No, better to do it the good old fashioned way. Sure, Naema Tullah wasn't technically a fiend, but her nature pertained her to them.

In the end, Carter did not get the grand, hand to hand duel he had been expecting. So absorbed in his own efforts to sneak up on her, and she her angry rampage, neither noticed geriatric Inspector Hawkins, the soon to be man of the hour, and his large police baton. To be quite specific, Naema had never seen it, but Carter and the rest of the Luca Police youth had. And they gawped at him. Carter would have felt affronted, had he not been hit with a sudden wave of mixed fatigue, bemusement and a downright bad mood to keep him preoccupied.

With Naema Tullah jumped and being held down by about half of the assembled uniforms, and with Dr. Aube conscious after his run in with a room full of Dual Horns and Bombs, in which he had apparently displayed an impressive affinity to Holy spells, Carter, Gippal and Macaro were once again sitting in the cargo bay of the SS Wino Luca-Kilika ferry in silence. Each was worse for wear, but the essential feeling was the same. It was almost as if nothing had happened over the past two hours. It was almost morning and they would have to go straight to work when they arrived in Luca. It wasn't a prospect he could relish. Maybe it was the Remedy in his blood thinking, but for just that period of time, each man seemed to have an understanding with the other. The tension was near enough gone. They could have been complete strangers or old friends; each left the other to their thoughts. No poking, no prying, just a rapport in the need for a quiet in which you could think.

With almost certainty, carter knew that this empathy would be transient. Everything would be as it was when they arrived in Luca. But for now, it was a long-awaited release to be free of thinking about murders and struggles and evidence and just think clearly.

His father had always told him that if a man didn't indulge his mind, it would destroy him. His mother had always said that over-indulgence would kill you just as quick. As for himself, he was too tired to add anything useful to the family saying. Peaceful as it was, Carter knew he should get some sleep. Somehow, the path stretching in front of him, in front of all of them, didn't seem obliged to replicate this moment again, but it didn't matter. As long as remembered it, it would be enough. To Carter, that was true strength. The power to draw strength from your own life, it was what he hoped he would achieve someday, sometime off in that unforeseeable future.


	19. Seventh Silence

Al Bhed Psycho by TheCiz

Disclaimer: I own only that which I have… today, I have dreams. Summer festivals and fireworks? Try lie-ins and DVD box sets. It is the life, indeed.

Author's Notes: Lately, Ciz has been in the mood for a little sang-froid, but… as you may or may not have noticed, it hasn't materialised. Indeed, if ever Ciz was cast in a kid's movie, she would be the Shaggy-like character. Not Scooby, for while he is stupid and cowardly, he has plot relevance. But enough of that… The middle is always the easiest of places to get lost, after all. Fractious thing, that. Discarding that thought, Ciz enquires as to who is ready to see the fic delve into some soap-style ridiculousness? No? Well, tough; Ciz views her plot thus, but gives the feeble excuse that she likes it and that it was the best she could come up with. If anything, that's all anyone can ever do. Ciz also finds herself cliché because listening to songs like "The Killer" by JJ Lin make her feel inspired.

**XIX. Seventh Silence**

It was half past seven in the morning when DC Habe got a rather rude wake up call. Lie in or not, he didn't have to be at work for another hour, so it did not put him in the best of moods. Macaro, too, did not seem to be in the best of moods, so Habe ignored his own sense of sleep deprived injustice and pulled on his work clothes. After a weary breakfast and fifteen minute walk, Habe arrived in the foyer of the Luca Police Department trying not to laugh. For there Carter stood, waiting for him with the eyebrows of a drag queen. Superior or not, it gave Carter reason enough to unload his undesirables upon him. And so, Habe once again found himself in the familiar situation of guarding a room that Gippal inhabited. The Fayth had to be mocking him or something. So little time had passed since Putsch's death for this same charge and yet the dagger was once again being held above his head. At this point, Habe just hoped Gippal was innocent; he didn't think he could bare it if Putsch had died protecting a murderer.

After a while, Dr. Aube entered the private holding area where Gippal was. Habe had been told he had already returned to Kilika, so he wasn't expected. The doctor had a tray of food accompanying him, and handed it to Habe with a small smile.

"Make sure he eats it, alright?" when Habe gave him a quizzical look, he continued, "I couldn't return before carrying out the last of my duties as his doctor. He'll be no use to your lot if he doesn't eat anything, so be a bit forceful if you have to."

Sighing, Habe opened the cell door; Gippal didn't look up. He was crouched in the corner of the cell, head down and silent. Habe approached him with caution, just to make sure that he wouldn't try and jump him.

"Hey, I got something for you." He set the tray in front of Gippal, who didn't seem to acknowledge him. "Hey!"

"I don't want it," Gippal muttered, hugging closer to the wall.

"Hey, your doctor friend was so worried about you he didn't leave until he made sure you've been fed. Is this how you're gonna repay him?"

"Not hungry."

"What d'you think you're playing at?" Habe could hear himself growl in irritation. "How many people you think risked their lives, just so you'd still be here? Putsch fucking died protecting me and you and you thank him by trying to starve yourself to death? Son of a bitch, I oughta…"

"Putsch?" Gippal murmured, with the slightest of turns in Habe's direction.

Habe slid down the wall, down to Gippal's level, and breathed out. It figured that a self-centred big shot like him wouldn't remember people like Putsch and him. "You don't remember him? Don't remember me? Well, I suppose we were outside most of the time."

Habe spied Gippal's lone eye fixed upon him. "The guards at the hospital?"

"Yeah, me and him… he was my best friend."

"Then… Naema's men?"

Habe nodded; as if he needed reminding. If only he hadn't been such a lousy shot, if only he hadn't got hit that second time. If only he hadn't left his best friend to face them alone. Too many 'if only's, and not enough action.

"I…" Gippal was looking at the wall again. "It was my fault."

"Pff, don't gimme that. Far as I'm concerned, it was the bastards who shot him's fault. Oh, and that bitch Tulah as well. She ain't gonna get away with nothing on my watch. Which reminds me, you better be telling the truth about not doing them murders, because if you weren't I swear to…"

"Why don't you ask Naema?" Gippal said, taking a small bite out of some of the toast on the tray.

Habe eyed him, "Thought you weren't hungry?"

Gippal shrugged. "It's always the smell of bacon that catches out the vegetarian."

"You don't have any bacon."

Gippal paused. "So what if I like baked goods?"

Habe shook his head, "What's the point in me asking Naema about it, anyway? She'd say you did it even if we had all the proof in Spira you didn't."

"Well, she was there at time." Gippal replied thickly; he was so casual in his remark Habe didn't take him seriously for a second.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Gippal sipped at his cup of coffee. "She didn't tell you? Huh. And here was me thinking she'd be just itching to tattle on me." After a couple of moments, Gippal seemed to pick up the look in Habe's eyes, insisting he continue. "When we were in the hospital, she told me she saw me shoot them. Saw me and ran."

Habe stared at him, words of disbelief stalling in his throat. Gippal took the chance to peer out the door, where Aube was looking in and smiling.

Habe got to his feet. "Did you tell the DCI about this?" Although it seemed like a stupid question now; Gippal hadn't said anything because he hadn't wanted to incriminate himself.

Gippal looked back at the wall, toast still in hand. "Well, since I assumed Naema would've been grilled about it already, I didn't see the point."

"I, I need to go." No, Tulah had not chosen to share that information with them, as far as he knew. This needed to be reported, suspicious as it was that Gippal was implicating himself. Habe opened the cell door, brushing past Dr. Aube. Then again, Gippal could have been trying to hint at something…

"I see you persuaded him then." Aube smiled at him, a gentle touch on Habe's arm spinning him away from his intended direction. "Thank you."

Urgent as his news was, Habe couldn't help his curiosity. "Why'd you bother staying?"

Aube looked in at Gippal, who was still taking small and reluctant bites at his breakfast. "Call me stupid if you will, but I always seem to get too attached to my patients. No matter who they are."

"You really were worried about him, then?"

"Men who live that lifestyle don't murder." The doctor muttered, heading towards the door. "I was as sceptical as any at first, but… Never mind. My ferry leaves soon, I must be away."

Habe watched him leave. He could sort of relate to the doctor's sentiments, no matter how much Gippal was trying to convince him otherwise.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The reason Naema had not told DCI Macaro, however, was quite straight forward. Once out of her sedation and upon being dragged into the Luca Police Department Offices kicking and screaming, she had had a rather disturbing epiphany. Both she and Gippal had been bundled into private holding areas, granted on different sides of the room and glass wall, when she had noticed through her death threats that Gippal was quite tall. Not excessively so, but taller than her. Being the same height as Lady Rikku, give or take a few centimetres, Gippal being taller than her did not work out. Quieting down some, she was allowed to edge a little closer without causing a fuss. Upon inspection, he was at least three or four inches taller than she. That didn't work. It couldn't work. He had to be wearing heels!

When she had been bending over, trying to investigate the design of Gippal's shoes, she had attracted the attention of the annoying old police officer who had knocked her out on the boat. Head throbbing, she decided that she would get even with him at a later date. What concerned her more in the present was that Gippal was taller than her and was not wearing heeled shoes. Indeed, the boots he wore had no visible heel to speak of. But he couldn't be taller than her! It didn't work! Unless he had for some reason shrunk himself, his being taller than her meant that…

"He didn't do it?" Naema blurted out, despite herself. That, that was… no one paid her remark any attention. It didn't matter now how much she had hated Gippal Okinoko in the past; there was no getting over the fact. He couldn't have done it. Couldn't have. After all, the man who had murdered Lady Rikku had been the same height as her. Lady Rikku had been barefoot, so perhaps he had been shorter. But that face… how was it then that their face so resembled Gippal's?

And then the thought hit her in the stomach like a brick. That face! No, it was definitely not Gippal's, but someone familiar. Very familiar. With horrified quiet, Naema Tulah realised the true identity of the person who had killed the woman she loved. It was a person she knew very well; someone who had been one of her best friends. She shook as she was led along to her high security cell; how could they? Why, why did they? The grief of realising that one of the two people she had loved the most had killed the one she adored above all, it was too much.

After an hour of being cooped up in a cell, however, Naema had set her will. She would change her grief to anger. She would fight back. For as long as she knew that person lived, she would not stop until she killed them with her bare hands. Chuckling to herself, Naema devised just the way she would get back at this person and ruin them once and for all.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Spitting at the feet of his captives, Teora mused for the first time in a long time that lacking the brawn Jyu-on had was indeed to his disadvantage. After all, had he been in any way skilled in the art of fighting, he would have put up much more of a fight against Praetor Baralai when he had come calling. Instead, he had allowed himself to be caught off-guard and captured. If only he hadn't of sent Jyu-on off on that mission alone; then, he would be out with her, annoying as she was, rather than be tied to a chair in the basement of an inn so close to his own home.

He glared up at the stupid Blitzer who was poking his cheek, chanting confess at him. "What do you want from me?" Teora snarled.

"I think you know," the Praetor replied, expressionless. "You recognised my voice, after all."

Teora snorted, "You don't think all of Spira knows your voice?"

"But how many people in Spira would look as terrified as you did when they heard it?" Truth be told, he hadn't expected his job of harassing the Praetor to ever be linked back to him. He supposed he could string him along for a while before telling him the inevitable; that he didn't know why he was set the job. People in his line of work never asked questions, the Praetor should have known that much. The ensuing battle of wills could give him enough time for Jyu-on to call, realise something was wrong and then return. Praetor of New Yevon or not, she wouldn't take well to them kidnapping him.

"I'm not afraid of you," he sneered, now confident in his knowledge that the Praetor or his friends would not dare touch him. "Why do you hide behind that dressphere? Or is it that you're still afraid of me?"

"I wouldn't flatter yourself," the ginger-haired woman in the corner said, speaking for the first time. "But he has a point. Having these on remind me why I hate long hair."

The Praetor shrugged. "If you insist. If room service where to call, however…"

"Keep them to hand, right? Yeah, I get it."

"Why don't you like long hair?" the Blitzer asked, and Teora was glad it distracted him from poking him.

The woman shook her head, changing out of her dressphere. "Because it's itchy. My neck's bright red from scratching it all the time." After the light had faded, Teora regarded the woman's true form with mild surprise; wasn't she one of those Gullwings from way back when?

The vacuous one in front of him had also changed, but in reality had not changed much; he was still a blonde, stupid Blitzball player, only he recognised him as being a famous one. Lady Yuna's husband and Luca's darling, Tidus. Both, Teora noted with disdain, were renowned for their skills in battle and the Praetor was supposed to be no pushover either; this made escape a little more complicated, even if he somehow did get Jyu-on involved.

"So how about we cut to the chase," the now more recognisable faced Praetor whispered. "I'll not bother asking why you took it upon yourself to try blackmailing me, but I will ask this; who contracted you to do it?"

Teora could not help laugh, "As if I'd tell you, even if I did know! Most clients prefer to remain anonymous; want to save their own hides should I go down."

"Naturally," the Praetor conceded, smiling at him now, "but from the way you were heard boasting about that particular job, I'd think it was safe to say you knew the person quite well."

Teora swore to himself, making sure his face let on none of his internal disdain. The only time he had ever gotten drunk in his entire life, that one night in Luca, was still coming back to haunt him. Never getting drunk before, he had no idea he would be so loose lipped from its effects; Jyu-on had been all for him ruining his own reputation and it was only when he was about to disclose information about her private life that she had dragged him back to the hotel.

"Talk is cheap in Luca, Praetor Baralai; how do you know I wasn't some small town crook trying his luck with a bluff?"

"I had to deal with many of them in Luca, true… but unfortunately for you, your reputation precedes you." The Praetor's slight smile had gone sour. "As does your contractor's, from what I've heard."

Teora smirked. "If you know so much of their reputation, then what is the point in my being here?"

"Prominent figure at the Machine Faction's a little too ambiguous for my liking."

"I see. You're afraid." Teora could not help stretch his grin, knowing that it triggered a reaction in the Praetor. "Afraid it was your old buddy Gippal. Am I correct?"

"As I said; prominent is too general. All I need is one name and you have your freedom." The Praetor's face returned nothing, but he could detect with satisfaction that his words where laced with a certain bitterness. "No matter how unscrupulous your previous work."

"No need to be so cold, my dear Praetor." Teora was relishing in the venom he could inject into his captors. If it had been a couple of days ago, he would have given up the client's name without a fuss; there was no point getting himself killed for that particular patron. However, Jyu-on was using their patronage as he sat there, so it wouldn't do him much use to have the client taken in before she was paid. "I'd like to think our little exchanges over the past few months have made us close. As such, I know you don't give a damn about who contracted me to call you."

"Is that right?"

"Of course. What you're worried about is the content of our discussions; namely that which implicates you in the Okinoko murders."

The Gullwing snapped a questioning look at the Praetor, who was still looking at Teora with steady, unwilling eyes. Tidus beside him looked on the whole unconcerned in his revelation, flicking through a newspaper with feigned interest. "Don't think implicate's the word your looking for, there," he chimed in.

"Maybe, but I do know he knew about them before they happened. Knowing about a plot to murder your supposed best friend's family and making no effort to stop it?" Teora focussed his gaze on the former Gullwing, the only one who seemed bothered by his words. "It's more than a little suspicious. To me, it sounds like somebody got jealous and then found the situation suddenly playing out to their advantage."

"How would Rikku dying be to my advantage?" the Praetor asked, his eyes, too, wandering to the woman in the corner.

"A cleared obstacle? People do talk, Praetor."

"They can talk freely, as far as I'm concerned. Years in a position of power wearies a man's efforts to keep up with gossip."

Teora shrugged. "If you say so. But the fact remains; for all your holier-than-thou attitude, you chose not to stop an easily preventable murder. I imagine that would not go down well with your electorate."

The Praetor gave a small laugh, flicking back a piece of hair. "You phoning me at the time to tell me something bad was happening is hardly incriminating."

Teora raised an eyebrow. "Sorry to break your bubble, but that certainly wasn't me. My contract was sent to me the morning after; so, really, all I have is your word you didn't know about it beforehand."

"And you have proof otherwise?"

"Whoever wanted me to harass you seemed to think they did."

"And yet you avoid the question of who that someone is."

"I don't know them. They communicate to me by letter, that's all." The Praetor kneeled before him, at his level for the first time. Beside him, Tidus had risen and the Gullwing was advancing.

"I don't appreciate liars." The Praetor stated with the slightest of frowns. "Do you?"

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

After being held for a few hours, Naema strolled with a pronounced air of glee when she went to cash in on her owed phone call. So pronounced, for that matter, that she got her jailer's attention. Flashing him a dazzling smile as she passed, Naema entered the phone booth with uncontainable excitement. Her hands shook as she dialled the all too familiar number; her revenge started now. The phone rang several times, in which she contemplated the inconceivable thought that the person would not answer, before it was picked up on the other end.

"Who is this?" came the voice, short and sharp from the outside world.

"You don't recognise my voice?" Naema could not help squeal like a young school girl, such was her ecstatic mood.

"Naema? What are you-? Didn't I tell you never to call me on this number? It's too risky!"

"Oh, like I care about that now. You can get caught talking to me; it'd make my news all the sweeter in the end."

"News?"

"Uh-huh. Remember when I told you about that night in Djose? That night I saw her murdered?" Naema took a quick glance at the officer outside the booth. That his suspicion hadn't been aroused meant that he could not hear her plotting. "I seemed to overlook one little detail in all my excitement."

"Which might be? Any information you have would be valuable to me; you know I want Rikku's murder solved more than any…"

"Don't you dare speak her name to me!"

"Why?"

"Ha, haven't you guessed, dearest? Or do I have to spell it out for you. I know. There's no point you trying to lie to me now."

The other end of the line was silent for a very long time. Naema could imagine with great glee the anxiety of her other half. "What do you plan to do about it, then?"

"Well, seeing as I'm in police custody and they're going to interview me any time now, I'd have such a perfect opportunity to spill the beans on you, my love."

The laugh at the other end was mocking. "And what makes you think they'll believe you? Everyone thinks you're crazy and you have nothing on me."

"Maybe not at first; but once I tell them everything about you, your background. Hm, yes, they'll want to lock you away whether they believe you murdered them or not. So, what will it be, my dear? Will you beg? Will you apologise to me and promise to make it all better?"

"It doesn't need to come to this, love. There are other ways for us to settle…"

"Settle this? You think more of your lies will make up for what you've done? I loved her. You knew that. And you couldn't take it. You couldn't stand the thought that there was someone out there who was better than you in every aspect of your pathetic existence."

"I'd no need for jealousy! We could've shared, I'd have been happy with that!"

"What will you do now, now that I've outsmarted you once and for all?" The increasingly desperate voice was intoxicating. How many years had these feelings been boiling away inside her, undiscovered, unexplored? She realised it now. It had been that way all along; they'd hated each other all along. They'd found someone who finally understood them in each other, but under the surface it made them hate the other all the more.

"Outsmarted me?" the voice had taken on a sudden calculated, calm tone that infuriated her triumphant thoughts. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, my love."

"I'm not. All along, it's you who's been the fool. A fool for underestimating me," she snarled. But that was a point; how would she even attract the police's attention? How would she make them listen long enough when they thought she was crazy? She eyed the policeman outside the booth with a menacing glint; he was a start. "You've not long to wait, now. You can try and run, but they'll catch you in the end. You'll get what you deserve."

"Oh will I now, Naema? Because it seems you're the one who's underestimating me. Didn't I tell you never to do that?"

"You think I listened to you? You were a weak pathetic fool, you always have been!"

"You'll regret that." The phone on the other end was hung up. Naema set down her receiver lightly. No, she thought as she was led back to her cell, they would regret ever crossing her.

It was when her cell door was being opened by her guard that Naema decided to exact her revenge. Elbowing him in the back of the head, she extracted a thin blade from her belt and grabbed the guard, pulling him inside and closing the door before the other guards could reach them. Holding the small blade to the guard's throat, just above his jugular vein, Naema grinned at the guards piling outside her cell door.

"I suggest you get on the phone to your head honchos," she shouted out to them through the small grate in the door, "because I wanna a chat with them. Oh, and tell them it's important."

As she heard them nominate the one to go, while all too loudly discussing how they would deal with her, Naema slid a finger to the small spot behind where her blade had just been. For there lay the large jewel that adorned her belt; but in reality it was no gem. It was a hidden dressphere. Naema had to laugh at the way everyone seemed to overlook her genius, resourceful nature. The outfit contained in that dressphere she knew was the one she had used during the hospital siege. Her current guise had allowed her to escape, but it was time to reuse the old nurse's uniform trick. For underneath that mage's dress she had strapped a string of explosives; a fake, to be sure, but if that wasn't an attention grabber…

It worked, as predicted, because two minutes after she had revealed her bombs, what looked like a very senior figure was standing outside her door. She didn't need the boy anymore.

"Get away from the door," she hissed. As they did so, one rather adventurous guard forced the door open. She was waiting for him, though, and kicked the young guard outside and into the invader, sealing the door with magic after him.

She held her explosives close to the grate, so that they could all see them. They were impossible to tell from real explosives because they were real ones, only hollow. The perfect way in which her plan was going gave her an unprecedented level of confidence.

"Now listen carefully, old man, because I have something very interesting to tell you about your murder case."

"You mean to tell us you were a witness? Gippal told us already."

"Oh he did, did he? Well, did he tell you how I know how the murder… Huh?" Naema blinked, staring at the explosive's main console. A green light had flashed up on it. The console was more intact than she thought. Never mind that, though, it couldn't harm her. "Yeah, I saw who murdered Lady Rikku! I saw them dead on!"

"What are you waiting for? Tell us already, if it's really true!" a second, younger voice interrupted.

"Oh no, you have to promise me first!"

"Promise you what?" the senior police officer asked in a cool voice. Trying to calm her down, was he? Nice try.

"That you'll do it. That you'll really listen to me and get them. You have to trust me."

"No offence, Miss Tulah, but we've no good reason to trust you."

"Well you better start trusting me or I'll blow up this whole building!" she shrieked back.

The console beeped, startling Naema. She looked at the screen, wide eyed; the words, 'I told you you'd regret calling me a fool', flashed on it. The frequency of the beeping increased and a timer for three seconds appeared on the screen.

"NO!" Naema screamed.

"Get back!" the superior officer yelled from outside.

Naema shred at the strap on her with her nails, trying to tear herself from the explosives. But she had no chance.

The room of the door blew open with an almost-deafening explosion. The retreating officers where thrown to the ground. With a ringing in his ears, DCI Macaro looked back at the charred hole that used to be a doorway. When he had looked into the cave where the cell had been with DI Jackson and DC Habe at his side, he saw the scattered remains of his only witness. Burnt, mutilated flesh and the jarring shards of metal imbedded in it where all that remained of Naema Tulah. In a sick sort of way, it was fitting. She was a woman who had died the exact same way she lived; with a bang.


End file.
